,  1  IP 

•  •  •     '    • 


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'  • '  - 


'•  In  books,  or  work,  or  healthful  play, 

Let  my  first  years  be  passed ; 

That  I  may  give  for  every  day 

S-.unc  good  account  at  last." 


ante 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


As  years  make  us  wiser  or  prouder, 
Wh.-it  innocent  pleasures  we  miss  ; 

The  rattles  of  lifr  may  be  louder. 
But  are  not  go  harmless  as  this. 


BOSTON: 
T.    O.    H.    P.    BURN  HAM 

143    WASHINGTON   STREKT. 
1863. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S59.  by 

MAYHEW  AND  BAKEK. 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts 


RIVERSIDE,  CAMBRIDGE:  PRINTED  BY  n.  o.  HOCOUTON. 


ome   §01153  for  Jtttle  Darlings. 


WILLIE'S    BIRTHDAY. 

THOU  wakest  from  rosy  sleep  to  play 
With  bounding  heart,  my  boy ! 

Beyond  thee  lies  a  long  bright  day 
Of  summer  and  of  joy. 

Thou  hast  no  heavy  thought  or  dream 

To  cloud  thy  fearless  eye  ; 
Long  be  it  thus  —  life's  early  stream 

Should  still  reflect  the  sky. 


2207306 


i  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

Let  ere  the  cares  of  life  lie  dim 

On  thy  young  spirit's  wings, 
Now  in  thy  morn  forget  not  him 

From  whom  each  pure  thought  springs : 

So  in  the  onward  vale  of  tears, 

Where'er  thy  path  may  be, 
When  strength  hath  bowed  to  evil  years, 

He  will  remember  thee. 

Hemans. 


MORNING    PRAYER. 

GREAT  God,  who  dwells  in  heaven  above, 

I  humbly  kneel  to  thee, 
To  thank  thee  for  the  care  and  love 

Which  thou  dost  show  to  me. 

When  in  the  early  morn  I  rise 

To  see  another  day, 
From  thy  commands  so  good  and  wise, 

Let  not  my  footsteps  stray. 

And  bless  my  parents,  good  and  dear, 

Teach  me  to  grateful  be, 
For  all  the  kind  and  watchful  care 

They  lavish  upon  me. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 

Oh,  keep  my  feet  in  virtue's  paths, 
As  through  this  world  I  move, 

That  I  at  last  may  sit  with  thee, 
In  thy  bright  realms  above. 


ROBIN    REDBREAST. 

WHEN  the  fields  are  white  with  snow, 
And  the  frosty  breezes  blow, 
Pretty  Robin  Redbreast  comes, 
Watching  for  the  children's  crumbs. 

Crimson  breast  and  diamond  eye, 
In 'he  hops,  both  bold  and  shy; 
With  a  timid,  gentle  glance, 
Eyes  the  children  all  askance. 

• 

Pretty  Robin,  dread  no  flftrm ! 
Statt  not  off  in  vain  alarm  ! 
See,  he  pecks  the  crumbs  so  sweet, 
Grateful  for  the  warm  retreat. 

Who  has  never  dropt  a  tear 
O'er  the  tale  of  children  dear, 
In. the  wood  who  dying  lay, 
Led  by  cruel  men  astray ; 


10  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

And  how  Robin  Redbreast  there 
Spread  with  leaves  the  hapless  pair !  — 
Hence  each  young  and  tender  breast 
Loves  of  birds  the  Robin  best. 


THE    PONY    RIDE. 

PRETTY  lady,  mount  and  go  ! 

Saddle,  bridle,  all  is  ready, 
And  the  pony's  glances  show, 

He  is  proud  to  bear  his  lady. 

Caesar  barks  with  honest  glee, 
All  impatient  for  a  scamper  ; 

Down  the  road  or  o'er  the  lea 

Off  he  '11  bound  before  the  tramper. 

Trot  or  amble,  safe  and  sure, 
Pony  ne'er  will  start  or  stumble  ; 

Over  holt  or  hill  secure, 

Mount  and  go,  nor  fear  a  tumble. 

Pony  well  deserves  your  care, 
Corn  and  hay  to  fill  his  manger ; 

Well  he  knows  his  mistress  fair, 
Knows  her  voice  from  any  stranger. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


13 


MY    LITTLE    SISTER. 

0  MOTHER,  look  at  baby, 

See  how  she  jumps  and  crows ; 
That 't  is  her  little  sister 

I  really  think  she  knows. 

And  do  you  think  she  loves  me 
And  wants  me  by  her  side, 

To  gather  up  her  playthings, 
And  teach  her  how  to  ride, 


14  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

And  place  her  in  her  cradle 
AVhen  she  wants  to  go  to  sleep, 

To  rock  it  softly  when  she  stirs, 
And  by  its  side  to  keep  ? 

I'm  sure  I  love  her  dearly, 
And  hope  that  she  will  me, 

When  she  comes  to  know  more  clearly 
How  dear  she  is  to  me. 

And  every  night  to  God  I'll  pray, 
On  his  bright  throne  above, 

To  make  me  dear  to  baby, 
And  worthy  of  her  love. 


THE    CHORUS    OF    FROGS. 

"  YAUP,  yanp,  yanp," 
Said  the  croaking  voice  of  a  Frog  : 
"  A  rainy  day, 
In  the  month  of  May, 
And  plenty  of  room  in  the  bog." 

"  Yaup,  yanp,  yaup," 

Said  the  Frog,  as  he  hopped  away :. 
"  The  insects  feed 
On  the  floating  weed, 

And  I  'm  hungry  for  dinner  to-day.'' 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  15 

"  Yaup,  yaup,  yaup," 
Said  the  Frog,  as  it  splashed  about : 
"  Good  neighbors  alj, 
When  you  hear  me  call, 
It  is  odd  that  you  do  not  come  out." 

"  Yaup,  yaup,  yaup," 
Said  the  frogs  ;  "  it  is  charming  weather , 

"We'll  come  and  sup 

When  the  moon  is  up, 
And  we  '11  all  of  us  croak  together." 


THE    RECONCILEMENT. 

Two  brothers  once  fell  out  at  play, 

As  little  boys  will  do, 
"Whose  parents  reconciled  the  fray 

By  gentle  means  and  true. 

. 

No  threats  severe  they  vainly  try. 

No  angry  word  or  blow, 
But  kind  entreaties  thus  apply, 

From  loving  lips  that  flow  :  — 

"  Dear  children,  join  your  hands  i:i  love, 
And  he  that'  first  shall  smile, 


16  HOME    SOU^S    FOB 

A  noble  boy  himself  will  prove, 
Above  revenge  or  guile. 

"  And  oh  !  while  blest  with  life  and  light, 

Let  not  the  sun  go  down 
On  angry  breasts  that  brawl  and  fight, 

Or  sullen  brows  that  frown. 

"  Most  lovely  is  the  home  of  love, 
Where  peace  and  pleasure  dwell, 

Fit  emblems  of  the  realms  above, 
Where  no  fierce  tumults  swell." 


THE    GOLDEN    RULE. 

To  do  to  all  men  as  I  would 

That  they  should  do  to  me, 
Will  make  me  kind,  and  just,  and  good, 

And  so  I  '11  try  to  be. 


RICH    AND    POOR. 

OUR  country  house  at  Christmas  time, 

It  was  a  pleasant  sight, 
The  holly  hung  in  every  room, 

The  fires  were  blazing  bright ; 
As  the  snow-clad  hills  around 

Came  down  the  winter  night. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  17 

My  little  brother  George  and  I, 

Stood  watching  at  the  door, 
To  see  our  uncle's  carriage  come, 

And  greet  our  cousins  four ; 
When  a  poor  hungry  boy  came  near 

That  only  tatters  wore. 

He  told  how,  once,  his  father  toiled, 

But  now  was  with  the  dead, 
That  there  was  sickness  in  his  home, 

And  bitter  want  of  bread. 
We  gave  him  all  our  hoarded  pence 

For  the  sad  words  he  said. 

But  when  our  cousins  came  at  last, 

And  there  was  mirth  to  see, 
The  gilded  gifts,  and  pretty  toys, 

Hung  on  our  Christmas  tree  ; 
I  told  my  mother  of  the  boy, 

And  thus  she  said  to  me :  — - 

"  So  much  the  more  we  owe  to  God, 

For  all  that  he  hath  given, 
A  ready  mind  to  help  the  hands 

That  sore  with  want  have  striven, 
Since  they  that  are  the  poor  on  earth 

May  be  the  rich  in  heaven." 
2 


18 


HOME    SONGS    FOB 


PEASANT'S   EVENING  SONG. 

COME  to  the  sunset  tree  ! 

The  day  is  past  and  gone  ; 
The  woodman's  axe  lies  free, 

And  the  reaper's  work  is  done. 

The  twilight  star  to  heaven 

And  the  summer  dew  to  flowers, 

And  rest  to  us  is  given 

By  the  cool  soft  evening  hours. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  19 

Sweet  is  the  hour  of  rest ; 

Pleasant  the  wind's  low  sigh  ; 
And  the  gleaming  of  the  west, 

And  the  turf  whereon  we  lie. 

When  the  burden  and  the  heat 

Of  labor's  task  are  o'er, 
And  kindly  voices  greet 

The  tired  one  at  his  door. 

Come  to  the  sunset  tree ! 

The  day  is  past  and  gone ; 
The  woodman's  axe  lies  free, 

And  the  reaper's  work  is  done. 

Yes ;  tuneful  is  the  sound 

That  dwells  in  whispering  boughs ; 
Welcome  the  freshness  round, 

And  the  gale  that  fans  our  brows. 

But  rest  more  sweet  and  still 

Than  ever  nightfall  gave, 
Our  yearning  hearts  shall  fill 

In  the  world  beyond  the  grave. 

There  shall  no  tempest  blow, 
Nor  scorching  noontide  heat ; 


20  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

There  shall  be  no  more  snow 
To  weary,  wandering  feet. 

So  we  lift  our  trusting  eyes 
From  the  hills  our  fathers  trod, 

To  the  quiet  of  the  skies, 
To  the  Sabbath  of  our  God. 

Come  to  the  sunset  tree  ! 

The  day  is  past  and  gone ; 
The  woodman's  axe  lies  free, 

And  the  reaper's  work  is  done. 


Mrs.  Hcmans. 


THE    CLOCKING   HEN. 

"  WILL  you  take  a  walk  with  me, 

My  little  wife,  to-day  ? 
There 's  barley  in  the  barley  field, 

And  hayseed  in  the  hay." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  clocking  hen, 
"  I  Ve  something  else  to  do  • 

I  'm  busy  sitting  on  my  eggs, 
I  cannot  walk  with  you." 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  21 

"  Clock,  clock,  clock,  clock," 

Said  the  clocking  hen ; 
"  My  little  chicks  will  soon  be  hatched, 

"  I  '11  think  about  it  then." 

The  clocking-hen  sat  on  her  nest, 

She  made  it  in  the  hay ; 
And  warm  and  snug  beneath  her  breast, 

A  dozen  white  eggs  lay. 

Crack,  crack,  went  all  the  eggs, 
Out  dropt  the  chickens  small ; 

"  Clock,"  said  the  clocking  hen, 
"  Now  I  have  you  all." 

"  Come  along,  my  little  chicks, 

I  '11  take  a  walk  with  you ; 
"  Hallo,"  said  the  barn-door  cock. 

"  Cock-a-doodle-doo." 


GOING   TO   BED. 

Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep ; 
If  I  should  die  before  I  wake, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  take. 


22  HOME    SONGS    FOR 


HONESTY. 

WITH  honest  heart  go  on  your  way, 

Down  to  your  burial  sod, 
And  never  for  a  moment  stray 

Beyond  the  path  of  God. 

Then  like  a  happy  pilgrim  here, 

O'er  pleasant  meadow  going, 
You  '11  reach  the  bank  without  a  fear, 

"Where  death's  chill  stream  is  flowing. 

And  every  thing  along  your  way 

In  colors  bright  shall  shine ; 
The  water  from  the  jug  of  clay 

Shall  taste  like  costly  wine  ! 

Then  cherish  faith  and  honesty 

Down  to  your  burial  clod, 
And  never  for  a  moment  stray 

Beyond  the  path  of  God. 

Your  sons  and  grandsons  to  your  tomb 
Shall  come,  their  tears  to  shed  ; 

And  from  their  tears  sweet  flowers   shall 

bloom, 
Above  your  sleeping  head ! 

From  the  German. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  23 


THE    CHILD    AND    THE    LAMB. 

MY  pretty  lamb,  with  snowy  fleece, 

With  low  and  tender  bleat, 
And  feet  that  o'er  the  daisies  fly 

So  soundless  and  so  fleet. 
To  meet  me  when  I  come  in  sight, 

Through  sunshine  or  through  showers  ; 
How  merry  you  and  I  have  been 

Among  the  meadow  flowers. 

I  never  found  you  cross  or  tired, 

The  whole  long  summer  day  ; 
I  never  knew  you  leave  my  side, 

Nor  yet  refuse  to  play. 
There  's  none  of  all  my  "schoolfellows 

That  love  me  now  like  you ; 
And  I  had  many  a  pet  before, 

But  none  that  seemed  so  true. 

They  brought  me  in  a  robin  once 

That  had  a  broken  wing  ; 
I  nursed  him  all  the  winter,  but 

He  flew  away  in  spring. 
The  next,  it  was  a  lovely  squirrel, 

So  full  of  tricks  and  fun, 
But  he  left  me  in  the  wood  one  day, 

At  the  setting  of  the  sun. 


24 


HOME    SONGS    FOR 


You  will  not  leave  me  too,  my  lamb  ; 

But  sometimes  in  my  sleep 
I  grieve  to  dream  that  you  have  grown 

An  old  and  quiet  sheep ; 
That  only  minds  the  grass  all  day, 

And  never  lifts  its  eyes, 
Like  all  your  friends  in  yonder  field, 

So  woolly  and  so  wise. 

Thus  talked  poor  Lucy,  to  her  lamb, 
With  arms  about  it  twined, 

Till  her  good  father  passed  and  spoke 
To  her  in  words  as  kind : 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  25 

"  So  must  niy  little  rosy  girl, 

That  now  so  blithely  plays, 
From  childhood  grow  to  woman's  cares, 

To  woman's  works  and  ways. 

"  A  world  of  hopes  and  fears,  beyond 

Her  early  playmate's  lot, 
Awaits  my  Lucy,  when  her  sports 

And  pets  are  all  forgot. 
Yet  may  she  still  its  innocence, 

Her  fair  example  hold, 
And  live  a  meek  and  guileless  lamb 

In  our  good  Shepherd's  fold." 


THE  ROOKS. 

THE  Rooks  are  building  on  the  trees, 
They  build  there  every  spring ; 

"  Caw,  caw,"  is  all  they  say, 
For  none  of  them  can  sing. 

They  're  up  before  the  break  of  day, 

And  up  till  late  at  night ; 
For  they  must  labor  busily 

As  long  as  it  is  light. 

And  many  a  crooked  stick  they  "bring, 
And  many  a  slender  twig, 


26  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

And  many  a  tuft  of  moss,  until 
Their  nests  are  round  and  big. 

"  Caw,  caw."     Oh,  what  a  noise 

They  make  in  rainy  weather  ! 
Good  children  always  speak  by  turns, 

But  Rooks  all  talk  together. 

How  many  nests  are  on  the  trees, 

And  up  at  what  a  height ! 
There  are  a  thousand  Rooks,  and  yet 

I  never  saw  them  fight ; 

For  they  are  friendly  birds,  and  each 

Is  to  his  neighbors  known  : 
.  They  never  touch  each  other's  things, 
But  let  them  all  alone. 

I  wonder  if  we  ever  heard 

Of  little  girls  and  boys 
"Who  quarrelled  more  than  Rooks,  and  made 

A  more  unpleasant  noise  ? 

I  wonder  if  we  ever  heard 

Of  children  who  would  touch 
The  things  they  ought  to  let  alone  — 

I  wonder  very  much  ? 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  27 


HUSH,    MY    BABE. 

HUSH,  my  babe,  lie  still  and  slumber ; 

Holy  angels  guard  thy  bed ; 
Heavenly  blessings  without  number, 

Gently  falling  on  thy  head. 

Sleep,  my  babe,  thy  food  and  raiment, 
House  and  home,  thy  friends  provide  ; 

All  without  thy  care  or  payment, 
All  thy  wants  are  well  supplied. 

See  the  lovely  babe  a  dressing ; 

Lovely  infant,  how  he  smiled : 
When  he  wept,  the  mother's  blessing 

Soothed  and  hushed  the  holy  Child. 

Lo,  he  srumbers  in  the  manger, 
"Where  the  horned  oxen  fed ! 

Peace,  my  darling,  here  's  no  danger, 
There 's  no  oxen  near  thy  bed. 

'T  was  to  save  thee,  child,  from  dying, 
Save  my  dear  from  burning  flame, 

Bitter  groans  and  endless  crying, 
That  thy  blest  Redeemer  came. 


28  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

May'st  thou  live  to  know  and  fear  him, 
Trust  and  love  him  all  thy  days ; 

Then  go  dwell  forever  near  him, 
See  his  face  and  sing  his  praise. 

I  could  give  thee  thousand  kisses, 
Hoping  what  I  most  desire  ; 

Not  a  mother's  fondest  wishes 
Can  to  greater  joys  aspire. 

Dr.  Watts, 


THE    FIRST    WALK. 

A  WONDROUS  venture  it  must  be, 
My  trembling  little  one,  for  thee 

To  trust  thy  feeble  feet 
Upon  this  hard  old  earth  of  ours  ; 
And  thou  hast  summoned  all  thy  powers 

The  mighty  task  to  meet. 

There's  caution  in  that  look  of  thine 
And  in  the  hand  that  clings  to  mine, 

With  clasp  so  keen  and  small ; 
Yet  thou  wilt  learn  to  jump  and  run 
Through  the  green  meadows  in  the  sun, 

And  never  fear  a  fall. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  29 

These  are  thy  faint  first  steps  in  life, 
And  though  they  seem  with  danger  rife, 

The  peril  is  not  there ; 
But  in  thine  after  goings,  child  !  — 
For  oh  this  world  is  wide  and  wild, 

And  much  more  false  tlian  fair ! 

\ 

I  cannot  tell  what  stranger  shore 
These  timid  feet  may  journey  o'er  — 

What  desert  bleak  and  broad ; 
But  I  can  truly  hope  and  pray 
That  thou  may'st  walk  in  wisdom's  way, 

And  humbly  with  thy  God. 


SUMMER. 

THE  sky  is  bright  above, 

The  lake  is  bright  below ; 
The  boatmen  sail  on  merrily, 

All  singing  as  they  go. 

The  corn  is  ripening  in  the  field, 
The  fruit  upon  the  bough, 

The  spring  time  gay  has  passed  away, 
And  it  is  summer  now. 


30 


HOME    SONGS    FOB 


GATHERING    WILD    FLOWERS. 

THEY  were  blithe  times  with  us  when  the  sum- 
mer had  come, 

"With  the  nightingale's  song,  and  the  honey- 
bee's hum, 

With  lilies,  and  roses,  and  long  sunny  hours, 

And  holiday  goings  to  gather  wild  flowers. 

"We  went  all  together,  one  bright  afternoon, 
When  warm  on  the  woods  lay  the  sunlight  of 

June, 

And  up  in  the  sky  was  a  blueness,  as  clear 
As  if  not  a  cloud  had  been  there  all  the  year. 


LITTLE    DAELINGS.  31 

Old  grandmother  went  with  her  staff  in  her 

hand, 
She  said,  "  To  see  summer  once  more  in  the 

land  ;  " 
While  good  uncle  William  walked  cheerfully 

by, 

And,  we  had  such  baskets,  my  sister  and  I 

'T  was  sweet  in  the  meadows,  't  was  sweet  in 

the  woods, 
And  great  was  our  gathering  of  blossoms  and 

buds, 
By  the  banks  of  bright  streams,  by  the  roots 

of  old  trees,  .  __ 

Where  nestled  the  wild  birds,  and  feasted  the 

bees. 

Then  home  with  light  hearts  and  full  baskets 

we  sped, 
When  sunset  was  tinging  the  old  church  with 

red, 
But  paused  at  our  gate  to  look  back  on  the 

view, 
How  rich  in  the  gold  of  the  evening  it  grew. 

And  grandmother  said,  as  she  gazed  on  the 


With  thoughts  of  her  seventy  long  summers 
gone  by, 


32  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

"  What  glory  must  gladden  that  good  land  of 

ours, 
When  this  earth  is  so  fair  in  the  time  of  wild 

flowers!" 


TWINKLE,    TWINKLE,    LITTLE     STAR. 

TWINKLE,  twinkle,  little  star ; 
How  I  wonder  what  you  are ! 
Up  above  the  world  so  high, 
Like  a  diamond  in  the  sky. 

When  the  glorious  sun  is  set, 
When  the  grass  with  dew  is  wet, 
Then  you  show  your  little  light, 
Twinkle,  twinkle,  all  the  night. 

In  the  dark  blue  sky  you  keep, 
And  often  through  my  curtains  peep  ; 
For  you  never  shut  your  eye 
Till  the  sun  is  in  the  sky. 

As  your  bright  and  tiny  spark 
Lights  the  traveller  in  the  dark, 
Though  I  know  not  what  you  are, 
Twinkle,  twinkle,  little  star. 


LITTLE    DAELINGS, 


THE    CUCKOO. 

AND  so  you  have  come  back  again, 

And  it  was  you  I  heard 
Proclaiming  it  to  all  the  world  — 

You  most  conceited  bird. 

You  talked  of  nothing  but  yourself 
When  you  were  here  before, 

Until  your  voice  became  so  hoarse 
That  you  could  talk  no  more. 

And  now  you  fly  from  bush  to  bush, 
And  say  "  Cuckoo,  cuckoo." 

Have  you  no  friends  to  care  about  ? 
No  useful  work  to  do  ? 

I  hear  you  're  such  a  lazy  bird, 
You  cannot  build  a  nest ; 

Perhaps  you  could,  if  you  would  try- 
We  ought  to  do  our  best. 

The  little  bird  that  told  me  this, 
Suspected  something  worse,  — 

That  you  neglect  your  little  ones, 
And  put  them  out  to  nurse* 
3 


34  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

Oh,  Cuckoo  !  if  this  story  's  true, 
I  think  you  're  much  to  blame. 

Then  talk  no  more  about  yourself 
So.    Hide  yourself,  for  shame. 


A    BETTER    SON. 

AN  old  man  to  our  hearth  had  come, 

On'e  evening  in  the  time  of  snow, 
He  told  us  of  his  childhood's  home, 

And  of  his  parents  long  ago : 
How   much   for  him   they   worked   and 
prayed  — 

How  long  their  toils  and  prayers  were 

done ; 
And  then  the  old  man  sighing,  said, 

"  If  I  had  been  a  better  son." 

We  never  knew  what  early  sin 

Called  forth  that  aged  traveller's  sigh, 
But  often  have  I  thought  since  then, 

My  parents  must  grow  old  and  die ; 
And  mine  may  be  a  grief  as  keen 

For  harsh  words  said,  or  follies  done ; 
Therefore,  my  daily  prayer  has  been 

That  I  might  be  a  better  son. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  35 


DING!   DONG!   BELL! 

DING!  Dong!  Bell! 

Why  do  you  ring  so  clear  ? 
In  the  early  morning 

Sleep  to  me  is  dear. 

'T  is  time  you  were  up,  little  boy, 
Early  rise  if  you  wish  to  be  well ; 

No  sluggard  can  list  to  my  song 
Of  Ding!  Dong!  Bell! 

Ding!  Dong!  Bell! 

Why  do  you  ring  at  noon  ? 
Making  me  stop  my  play 

To  list  to  your  cheerful  tune. 

For  dinner  't  is  time,  little  boy, 
The  laborers  hurry  pellmell ; 

Welcome  to  them  is  the  sound 
Of  Ding !  Dong !  Bell ! 

Ding!  Dong!  Bell! 

Again  your  solemn  peal 
In  the  early  evening 

On  my  ear  does  steal. 


3G  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

Time  you  were  in  your  bed,  little  boy, 

The  end  of  day  1  knell ; 
Welcome  to  all  is  the  evening  sound 

Of  Ding !  Dong !  Bell ! 


THE    YOUNG    AND    OLD. 

GRANDFATHER  dear,  where  are  they  gone, 
Those  boys  that  were  all  at  school  with 

you, 
Wrestling  Richard,  jumping  John, 

Climbing  Harry,  and  hardy  Hugh  ; 
We   have   heard   of   their   doings  many  a 

day, 
Grandfather,  tell  us  where  are  they  ? 

"  My  boy,  it  is  sixty  years  ago, 

And   all   my  schoolmates  are  dead  and 

gone, 
But  the  lame  old  man  at  the  lodge  you 

know, 
'Twas  he  who  was  once  called  jumping 

John, 

And  I,  whom  the  east  wind  pierces  through, 
Was  the  boy  for  the  winters,  hardy  Hugh." 


LITTLE    DARLINGS, 


37 


AUTUMN. 


PEACHES  ripe  and  apples  mellow, 
Grapes  both  sweet  and  clear, 

Fill  the  dishes  on  the  sideboard, 
Tell  that  autumn's  here. 

'T  is  merry  in  the  cornfield, 
When  harvest  wagons  stand  ; 

When  to  and  fro  the  reapers  go, 
The  sickle  in  their  hand. 


38  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

Then  give  we  thanks  to  God, 

At  even  and  at  morn, 
Who  sent  the  spring  and  summer  sun 

To  ripen  Autumn's  corn. 


THE    SUN. 

SOMEWHERE  it  is  always  light; 

For  when  'tis  morning  here, 
In  some  far  distant  land  't  is  night, 

And  the  bright  moon  shines  there. 

When  you  're  undressed  and  going  to  bed, 

They  are  just  rising  there  ; 
And  morning  on  the  hills  doth  spread, 

When  it  is  evening  here. 

And  other  distant  lands  there  be, 

Where  it  is  always  night ; 
For  weeks  and  weeks  they  never  see 

The  sun,  nor  have  they  light. 

For  it  is  dark  both  night  and  day  ; 

But  what 's  as  wond'rous  quite, 
The  darkness  it  doth  pass  away, 

And  then  for  weeks  't  is  light. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  39 

Yes,  while  you  sleep  the  sun  shines  bright, 

The  sky  is  blue  and  clear ; 
For  weeks  and  weeks  there  is  no  night, 

But  always  daylight  there. 


THE    BIRD'S    NEST. 

WHO  would  rob  the  linnet's  nest, 
Or  its  tender  young  molest, 
Heedless  of  their  chirping  cries  ? 
Naughty  boy,  restore  the  prize ! 

Thoughtless  child  !  did  you  but  know, 
All  the  love  and  all  the  woe 
That  the  parent  birds  must  feel, 
You  would  ne'er  such  treasures  steal. 

Helpless  things,  too  young  to 
Captives  in  a  cage  they  '11  die  ! 
Where 's  their  mother,  food  to  bring, 
And  enfold  them  with  her  wing  ? 

Wailing  in  some  lonely  brake, 
Broken-hearted  for  their  sake, 
Like  a  mourning  mother  left, 
Of  her  children  dear  bereft ! 


40  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

God  above  who  cares  for  all, 
He  who  sees  the  sparrow  fall, 
Made  them  free  on  joyful  wing, 
Through  the  air  to  soar  and  sing. 


RIDE    AWAY,    RIDE 

RIDE  away,  ride  away,  ride  ! 

Away  to  the  market  we  go, 
Placed  snugly  the  basket  beside, 

With  chickens  set  all  in  a  row. 

The  sheep  on  the  field  that  we  see, 
May  stare  at  our  carriage  so  fine, 

But  there  is  not  a  lamb  on  the  lea 
With  a  heart  so  delighted  as  thine. 

Though  lofty  the  gentle  folks  ride, 
With  horses  that  canter  and  neigh, 

Far  safer  and  smoother  we  glide, 

And  gather  sweet  flowers  on  the  way. 

The  higher  they  caper  and  bound, 
The  farther  they  sink  when  they  fall, 

But  riding  so  near  to  the  ground, 
The  wheel-barrow 's  safest  of  all. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  41 

Ride  away,  ride  away,  ride ! 

We  '11  pull  off  the  sweet-blooming  thorn, 
And  daisies  that  deck  the  way  side, 

For  garlands  when  home  we  return. 


AGAINST    QUARRELLING    AND    FIGHTING. 

LET  dogs  delight  to  bark  and  bite, 
For  God  hath  made  them  so  ; 

Let  bears  and  lions  growl  and  fight, 
For  't  is  their  nature  too. 

But,  children,  you  should  never  let 

Such  angry  passions  rise  ; 
Your  little  hands  were  never  made 

To  tear  each  other's  eyes. 

Let  love  through  all  your  actions  run, 
And  all  your  words  be  mild ; 

Live  like  the  blessed  Virgin's  Son, 
That  sweet  and  lovely  child. 

His  soul  was  gentle  as  a  lamb  ; 

And,  as  his  stature  grew, 
He  grew  in  favor  both  with  man 

And  God  his  Father  too. 


42  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

Now,  Lord  of  all,  he  reigns  above, 
And  from  his  heavenly  throne, 

He  sees  what  children  dwell  in  love, 
And  marks  them  for  his  own. 


THE  cow. 

THANK  you,  pretty  cow,  that  made 
Pleasant  milk  to  soak  my  bread, 
Every  day  and  every  night, 
Warm,  and  fresh,  and  sweet,  and  white. 

Do  not  chew  the  hemlock  rank, 
Growing  on  the  weedy  bank  ; 
But  the  yellow  cowslips  eat, 
They  will  make  it  very  sweet. 

Where  the  purple  violet  grows, 
Where  the  bubbling  water  flows, 
Where  the  grass  is  fresh  and  fine, 
Pretty  cow,  go  there  and  dine. 


LEARNING    TO    GO    ALONE. 

COME,  my  darling,  come  away, 
Take  a  pretty  walk  to-day. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  43 

Run  along,  and  never  fear, 
I  '11  take  care  of  baby  dear. 

Up  and  down  with  little  feet, 
That 's  the  way  to  walk,  niy  sweet ; 
Now  it  is  so  very  near, 
Soon  she  '11  get  to  mother  dear. 

There,  she  conies  along  at  last ; 
Here  's  my  finger,  hold  it  fast : 
Now  one  pretty  little  kiss, 
After  such  a  walk  as  this. 


I    USED    TO    THINK. 

I  USED  to  think  there  would  be  fun 
When  all  my  going  to  school  was  done, 

And  all  my  lessons  o'er ; 
"When  my  good  master —  I  thought  him  then 
The  worst  and  wildest  of  mortal  men  — 

Should  hear  my  tasks  no  more. 

"Well,  now,  the  school  time  is  all  past, 
I  'm  out  of  my  master's  thrall  at  last, 

And  sent  to  business  here. 
Yet  the  days  of  grumbling  are  not  gone, 
Fortunes  may  change,  but  they  last  on, 

Still  fresh  from  year  to  year. 


44 


HOME    SONGS    FOR 


GROWLER. 


Go,  naughty  Growler,  get  away, 
You  shall  not  have  a  bit ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  45 

Now  when  I  speak  how  dare  you  stay  ? 
I  can't  spare  any,  sir,  I  say, 
And  so  yon  need  not  sit. 

Poor  Growler  !  do. not  make  him  go, 

Bnt  recollect,  hefore, 
That  he  has  never  served  you  so, 
For  you  have  given  him  many  a  blow 

That  patiently  he  bore. 

Poor  Growler  !  if  he  could  but  speak, 

He  'd  tell  (as  well  he  might) 
How  he  would  bear  with  many  a  freak, 
And  Avag  his  tail,  and  look  so  meek, 
And  neither  bark  nor  bite. 

Upon  his  back  he  lets  you  ride, 
All  round  and  round  the  yard ; 

And  now,  while  sitting  by  your  side, 

To  have  a  bit  of  bread  denied, 
Is  really  very  hard. 

And  al^your  little  tricks  he  '11  bear, 

And  jnever  seem  to  mind  ; 
And  yeryou  say  you  cannot  spare 
One  bit  of  breakfast  for  his  share, 

Although  he  is  so  kind  ! 


46  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

LOOK    UP,   MY   CHILD. 

To  yonder  blue  and  boundless  dome, 
That  bends  o'er  river,  hill,  and  home, 
Wherein  the  sun  his  circuit  makes, 
Where  the  mild  moon  by  night  awakes, 
Where  morning  breaks,  where  evening  falls, 
From  whence  the  mighty  thunder  calls  — 
Where  rainbows  rise,  where  clouds  are  piled 
Above  man's  reach  —  Look  up,  my  child. 

That  sky  was  all  as  brightly  blue 
When  Adam  gazed,  and  Eden  grew, 
Though  centuries  since  then  have  rolled, 
It  has  not  altered,  or  grown  old, 
But  speaks  to  every  heart  and  eye 
Of  him  who  built  its  arch  so  high, 
And  spread  it  forth,  o'er  wave  and  wild, 
To  tell  his  praise  —  Look  up,  my  child. 

This  earth,  though  it  be  fair  to  see, 
With  hill  and  valley,  stream  and  tree, 
Hath  change  without  —  hath  graves  within, 
And  many  a  trace  of  tears  and  sin. 
Then  lift  thine  eyes,  and  lift  thy  heart, 
And  seek  beyond  the  skies  thy  part, 
Where  stands  that  city  undefiled 
Through  life  and  death  —  Look  up,  my  child. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  47 

GETTING  UP. 

Now,  my  baby,  ope  your  eye, 
For  the  sun  is  in  the  sky, 
And  he 's  peeping  once  again 
Through  the  frosty  window-pane ; 
Little  baby,  do  not  keep 
Any  longer  fast  asleep. 

There  now,  sit  in  mother's  lap, 
That  she  may  untie  your  cap ; 
For  the  little  strings  have  got 
Twisted  into  such  a  knot : 
Ah !  for  shame,  you've  been  at  play 
With  the  bobbin,  as  you  lay. 

There  it  comes,  now  let  us  see, 
"Where  your  petticoats  can  be : 
Oh !  they  're  in  the  window-seat, 
Folded  very  smooth  and  neat : 
When  my  baby  older  groAvs, 
She  shall  double  up  her  clothes. 

Now  one  pretty  little  kiss, 
For  dressing  you  so  nice  as  this ; 
And  before  you  go  down  stairs, 
Don't  forget  to  say  your  prayers  ; 
For  't  is  God  who  loves  to  keep 
Little  babies  while  they  sleep. 


48  HOME    SONGS    FOB 


THE    LITTLE    COWARD. 

WHY,  here  's  a  foolish  little  man ! 
Laugh  at  him,  donkey,  if  you  can  ; 
And  cat,  and  dog,  and  cow,  and  calf, 
Come,  every  one  of  you,  and  laugh. 

For  only  think,  he  runs  away 
If  honest  donkey  does  but  bray  ! 
And  when  the  bull  begins  to  bellow, 
He  's  like  a  crazy  little  fellow. 

Poor  Brindle  cow  can  hardly  pass 
Along  the  hedge  to  nip  the  grass, 
Or  wag  her  tail  to  lash  the  flies, 
But  off  he  runs  and  loudly  cries ! 

And  when  old  Tray  comes  jumping  too, 
With  bow,  wow,  wow,  for  how  d  'ye  do, 
And  means  it  all  for  civil  play, 
'T  is  sure  to  make  him  run  away ! 

But  all  the  while  you  're  thinking,  may  be, 
"Ah !  well,  but  this  must  be  a  baby." 
Oh !  cat,  and  dog,  and  cow,  and  calf, 
I  'm  not  surprised  to  see  you  laugh, 
He  's  five  years  old  and  almost  half. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  49 


THE   CUT. 

WELL,  what 's  the  matter  ?  there 's  a  face  ! 

What !  have  you  cut  a  vein  ? 
And  is  it  quite  a  shocking  place  ? 

Come,  let  us  look  again. 

I  see  it  bleeds,  but  never  mind 

That  tiny  little  drop ; 
I  don't  believe  you  '11  ever  find 

That  crying  makes  it  stop. 

'T  is  sad  indeed,  to  cry  at  pain, 

For  any  but  a  baby  ; 
If  that  should  chance  to  cut  a  vein, 

We  should  not  wonder,  may  be. 

But  such  a  man  as  you  should  try 

To  bear  a  little  sorrow : 
So  run  about  and  wipe  your  eye, 

'T  will  all  be  well  to-morrow. 


THE    WARNING. 

UNDER  a  tree,  and  by  a  well, 
There  stands  a  cottage  in  yonder  dell ; 
Within  that  cot  live  children  three,  . 
Such  children  did  you  never  see. 
4 


50  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

They  quarrel  at  meals,  they  quarrel  at  play, 
They  quarrel,  I  'm  told,  both  night  and  day  ; 
For  every  one  wants  every  thing, 
And  peace  from  the  house  has  taken  wing. 

Their  voices  have  got  the  quarrellcr's  tone, 
Their  faces  to  quarreller's  looks  have  grown  ; 
Then  lest  you  come  to  lead  their  life, 
Brothers  and  sisters,  cease  from  strife. 


TEACH    ME    TO    PRAT. 

LORD,  teach  a  little  child  to  pray, 
And  oh,  accept  my  prayer  ! 

Thou  hearest  all  the  words  I  say, 
For  tliou  art  everywhere. 

A  little  sparrow  cannot  fall 

Unnoticed,  Lord,  by  thee  ; 
And  though  I  am  so  young  and  small, 

Thou  carest  still  for  me. 

Teach  me  to  do  whate'er  is  right, 

And  when  I  sin,  forgive  ; 
And  make  it  still  my  chief  delight 

To  love  thee  while  I  live. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


51 


THE    CHILD'S    QUESTIONS. 

WHO  made  the  pretty  fields,  mamma, 

With  flowers  red  and  blue  ? 
Who  made  the  pretty  stars,  mamma  ? 

And  who  made  me  and  you  ? 

'T  was  God,  my  child,  who  made  the  world, 
And  all  things  bright  and  fair  ; 

His  goodness  keeps  us  all  from  harm, 
His  hand  is  everywhere. 


52  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

And  did  he  make  the  trees,  mamma ; 

The  rivers,  and  the  sea ; 
And  the  bright  sun  that  from  the  sky 

Shines  down  so  cheerfully  ? 

And  can  God  see  us  all,  mamma, 
And  hear  each  word  we  say  ? 

And  does  he  see  me  when  I  sleep, 
And  when  I  sing  and  play  ? 

He  sees  us  all,  my  little  one, 
From  his  bright  throne  above ; 

And  stretches  o'er  us,  day  by  day, 
The  shelter  of  his  love. 

High  on  his  heavenly  throne  he  hears 
Each  little  prayer  you  say  ; 

Then  learn  to  love  him,  little  child, 
And  seek  him  day  by  day. 


THE    LITTLE    BABY. 

WHAT  is  this  pretty  little  thing, 
That  nurse  so  carefully  doth  bring, 
And  round  its  head  her  apron  fling  ? 

A  baby ! 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  53 

Oh  !  dear,  how  very  soft  its  cheek : 
Why,  Nurse,  I  cannot  make  it  speak, 
And  it  can't  walk,  it  is  so  weak, 

Poor  baby. 

Here,  take  a  bit,  you  little  dear, 

I'  ve  got  nice  cake  and  sweetmeats  here : 

'T  is  very  nice,  you  need  not  fear, 

You  baby. 

Oh  !  I  'm  afraid  that  it  will  die  ; 

Why  can't  it  eat  as  well  as  I, 

And  jump  and  talk  ?     Do  let  it  try, 

Poor  baby. 

Why,  you  were  once  a  baby  too, 
And  could  not  jump  as  now  you  do, 
But  good  mamma  took  care  of  you, 

Like  baby. 

And  then  she  taught  your  pretty  feet 
To  pat  along  the  carpet  neat, 
And  call  papa  to  come  and  meet 

His  baby. 

Oh !  dear  mamma  to  take  such  care, 
And  no  kind  pains  and  trouble  spare, 
To  feed  and  nurse  you  when  you  were 

A  baby. 


54  HOMESONGSFOR 


THE    FISHING    BOAT. 

I  KNOW  a  little  fishing  boat 
That  puts  out  every  night, 

To  take  the  fishes  in  the  sea, 

When  the  moon  is  shining  bright. 

And  when  the  clouds  are  in  the  sky, 
And  winds  are  whistling  shrill, 

This  little  fishing  boat  puts  out 
From  the  haven  by  the  hill. 

What  makes  the  fisherman  go  out 
In  wind  and  storm,  as  well 

As  when  the  weather 's  calm  and  fair? 
I  fancy  I  can  tell. 

I  've  seen  three  little  children, 
That  stood  upon  the  shore, 

To  watch  the  fishing  boat  come  in  ;  — 
They  watched  an  hour  and  more. 

And  when,  at  last,  they  saw  it  come, 
The  youngest  of  them  said, 

"  Here 's  daddy  coming  home,  at  last ; 
And  now  we  shall  have  bread." 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  55 

'  And  that  is  why  the  fishing  boat 

Went  every  night  to  sea ;  — 

The  father  had  to  earn  the  bread 

To  feed  those  children  three. 


THE    PET    GOAT. 

A  FLOWERY  chaplet  wreathes  her  head, 

While  innocence  and  love, 
That  in  her  breast  their  home  have  made, 

Have  brighter  garlands  wove. 

The  Goat  and  Dog  are  all  her  care 

When  shine  the  sunny  hours, 
And  with  her  loved  companions  there, 

She  plays  among  the  flowers. 

The  Goat's  rough  head  and  branching  horns 

She  decks  with  streamers  gay, 
And  many  a  pendant  flower  adorns 

His  flowing  beard  of  gray. 

But  better  far  he  loves  the  crumbs 

Her  little  hand  bestows, 
And  runs  to  meet  her  when  she  comes, 

And  sorrows  when  she  goes. 


56  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

The  Dog  springs  up  and  barks  for  joy 
With  pretty  Jane  to  rove, 

And  views  the  Goat  with  jealous  eye, 
A  rival  for  her  love. 


THE    SLUGGARD. 

'T  is  the  voice  of  the  sluggard,  —  I  heard  him 
complain, 

"  You  have  waked  me  too  soon  ;  I  must  slum- 
ber again : " 

As  the  door  on  its  hinges,  so  he  on  his  bed 

Turns  his  sides  and  his  shoulders,  and  his 
heavy  head. 

"  A  little  more  sleep,  and  a  little  more  slum- 
ber;" 

Thus  he  wastes  half  his  days,  and  his  hours 
without  number ; 

And  when  he  gets  up,  he  sits  folding  his 
hands, 

Or  walks  about  saunt'ring,  or  trifling  he 
stands. 

I  passed  by  his  garden,  and  saw  the  wild  briar, 
The  thorn  and  the  thistle,  grow  broader  and 
higher ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  57 

The  clothes  that  hang  on  him  are  turning  to 

rags, 
And  his  money  still  wastes,  'till  he  starves  or 

he  begs. 

I  made  him  a  visit,  still  hoping  to  find 

That  he  took  better  care  for  improving  his 

mind; 
He  told  me  his  dreams,  talked  of  eating  and 

drinking ; 
But  he  scarce  reads  his  Bible,  and  never  loves 

thinking. 


THE     BABY'S    DANCE. 

DANCE,  little  baby,  dance  up  high : 
Never  mind,  baby,  mother  is  nigh  ; 
Crow  and  caper,  caper  and  crow, 
There,  little  baby,  there  you  go ; 
Up  to  the  ceiling,  down  to  the  ground, 
Backwards  and  forwards,  round  and  round, 
Then  dance,  little  baby,  and  mother  shall  sing, 
While  the  gay  merry  coral  goes  ding,  ding 
a-ding,  ding. 


58  HOME    SONGS    FOB 


LITTLE    THINGS. 

LITTLE  drops  of  water, 
Little  grains  of  sand, 

Make  the  mighty  ocean, 
And  the  pleasant  land. 

Thus  the  little  minutes, 
Humble  though  they  be, 

Make  the  mighty  ages 
Of  eternity. 

Thus  our  little  errors 
Lead  the  soul  away, 

From  the  path  of  virtue 
Off  in  sin  to  stray. 

Little  deeds  of  kindness, 
Little  words  of  love, 

Make  our  earth  an  Eden, 
Like  the  heaven  above. 


LITTLE    DARLTNGB.  59 


THE    NAUGHTY    SISTER. 

Go,  go,  my  naughty  girl,  and  kiss 

Your  little  sister  dear ; 
I  must  not  have  such  scenes  as  this, 

And  noisy  quarrels  here. 

What !  little  children  scratch  and  fight, 

That  ought  to  be  so  mild  ! 
Oh  !  Mary,  it 's  a  shocking  sight 

To  see  an  angry  child. 

I  can't  imagine,  for  my  part, 

The  reason  of  your  folly  ; 
She  did  not  do  you  any  harm, 

By  playing  with  your  dolly. 

See,  see,  the  little  tears  that  run 

Fast  from  her  watery  eye ; 
Come,  my  sweet  innocent,  be  done, 

'Twill  do  no  good  to  cry. 

Go,  Mary,  wipe  her  tears  away, 
And  make  it  up  with  kisses  ; 

And  never  turn  a  pretty  play 
To  such  a  pet  as  this  is. 


60  HOME    SONGS    FOR 


THE    AIR-BUBBLE. 

BLOW  the  bubble,  happy  boy, 
And  thy  fleeting  sport  enjoy  ; 
Globe  of  azure,  gold  and  green, 
Brighter  bubble  ne'er  was  seen  ! 

Silly  thing  of  froth  and  air, 
Off  it  goes !  we  know  not  where ; 
While  another  follows  fast, 
Bright  and  transient  as  the  last. 

Such  are  oft  the  dreams  of  youth, 
Airy  phantoms,  void  of  truth  ; 
Such  the  schemes  of  riper  age, 
When  the  world's  delusions  rage. 

Life 's  a  bubble  at  the  best,  — 
Clouds  where  air-built  castles  rest, 
Schemes  by  vain  ambition  nurst, 
Like  the  airy  bubble  burst. 

Blow  the  bubble,  happy  child, 
You  at  least  are  not  beguiled  : 
Pretty  pastime,  —  better  far 
Than  the  world's  great  bubbles  are. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  61 


THE    GREAT    BROWN    OWL. 

THE  brown  Owl  sits  in  the  ivy  bush, 

And  she  looketh  wondrous  wise, 
With  a  horny  beak  beneath  her  cowl, 

And  a  pair  of  large  round  eyes. 

She  sat  all  day  on  the  self-same  spray, 

From  sunrise  till  sunset ; 
And  the  dim,  grey  light  it  was  all  too  bright 

For  the  owl  to  see  in  yet. 

"  Jenny-Owlet,  Jenny-Owlet,"   said  a  merry 

little  bird, 

"  They  say  you  're  wondrous  wise  ; 
But  I  don't  think  you  see,  though  you're 

looking  at  ME 
With  your  large,  round,  shining  eyes." 

But  night  came  soon,  and  the  pale  white  moon 

Rolled  high  up  in  the  skies  ; 
And  the  great  brown  Owl  flew  away  in  her 
cowl, 

With  her  large,  round,  shining  eyes. 


62  HOME    SONGS    FOR 


THE   OLD    OLOOK. 

LISTEN  to  the  kitchen  clock ! 
To  itself  it  ever  talks, 
From  its  place  it  never  walks ; 

"  Tick-tock  —  tick-tock." 

Tell  me  what  it  says. 

"  I  'm  a  very  patient  clock, 
Never  moved  by  hope  or  fear, 
Though  I  've  stood  for  many  a  year  ; 

Tick-tock  —  tick-tock." 

That  is  what  it  says. 

"  1  'm  a  very  truthful  clock  : 
People  say,  about  the  place, 
Truth  is  written  on  my  face ; 

Tick-tock  —  tick-tock." 

» 

That  is  what  it  says. 

"  I  'm  a  very  active  Clock, 
For  I  go  while  you  're  asleep, 
Though  you  never  take  a  peep ; 

Tick-tock  —  tick-tock." 

That  is  what  it  says. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  63 

"  I  'm  a  most  obliging  Clock : 
If  you  wish  to  hear  me  strike, 
You  may  do  it  wheu  you  like ; 

Tick-tock  —  tick-tock." 

That  is  what  it  says. 

What  a  talkative  old  Clock ! 
Let  us  see  what  it  will  do 
When  the  pointer  reaches  two ; 

'  Diiig-diug  "  —  "  tick-tock." 
That  is  what  it  says. 


POLITENESS. 

GOOD  boys  and  girls  will  never  say, 
"  I  will"  and  "  Give  me  these ;" 

Oh,  no ;  that  never  is  the  way, 
But,  "  Mother,  if  you  please." 

And  "  If  you  please"  to  sister  Ann, 
Good  boys  to  say  are  ready ; 

And  "  Yes  sir"  to  a  gentleman, 
And  "  Yes  ma'am"  to  a  lady. 


64          HOME  SONGS  FOR 


GERTRUDE  AND  HER  ALPHABET. 

You  have  not  heard  the  story  yet 
Of  Gertrude  and  her  Alphabet. 
She  learnt  her  letters  from  a  board  ; 
As  yet,  she  could  not  read  a  word, 
But  stood  beside  her  mother's  knee, 
Who  pointed  out  great  ABC. 

"  I  cannot  see,"  said  little  Gerty  ; 
"  Mamma,  I  think  the  board  is  dirty  ! " 
"No,  not  at  all,"  her  mother  said  ; 
"  The  letters  are  jet  black  and  red, 
On  snow-white  paper ;  —  nay,  be  wise, 
You  cannot  see  with  tearful  eyes." 

But  still  the  tear-drdps,  large  and  round, 
Go  trickling  slowly  to  the  ground, 


LITTLE    DARLINGS,  65 

And  all  the  letters,  great  and  small, 
Seem  to  move  with  them  as  they  fall. 
The  crystal  drops  on  her  eyelashes 

Quiver  with  black  and  scarlet  dashes. 

--.. 

"  Strange,"  thought  the  child,  "  I  always 

thought 

That  was  round  0,  when  I  was  taught, 
Yet  now  it  turns  into  a  loop, 
And  now  —  into  my  own  new  hoop! 
That  hoop-stick  once  was  little  I ; 
I  'in  sure  it  was,  I  knew  it  well." 

The  child  is  looking  at  a  tear, 
Which,  like  a  mirror  bright  and  clear. 
Reflects  the  letters  as  they  pass, 
As  on  the  Fairy's  magic  glass ; 
And  all  the  little  dingy  letters 
Bow  to  the  r?d  ones,  as  their  betters. 

ft  started,  and  turned  up  its  tail ; 
H  turned  into  a  hurdle-rail ; 
And  i,  with  its  droll  little  head, 
Lay  down  on  B,  which  stands  for  bed  ; 
While  p,  which  always  puzzled  you, 
Turned  round  and  mimicked  little  q. 
5 


HOME    SONGS    FOR 

a,  with  its  puffed  out  paunch, 

looked  odd, 
/And  turned   into   a  Chinese 

god; 
u  was   a  washing   tub ;    but 

then, 
Turned    upside    down,    they 

called  it  n. 
And  both  the  great  and  little  K's 
Kicked  out  their  feet  and  laughed  at  T's. 

The  Ws  turned  over  soon, 

And  then  they  looked  like  M  for  moon ; 

And  both  the  crooked  S's,  they 

Ran  up  a  step-ladder,  great  A ; 

While  X  and  Z  and  D  and  T 

Looked  like  themselves,  and  so  did  V. 

Small  h.  looked  like  the  high  backed  chairs  ; 

Y  like  a  wine-glass  —  Gerty  stares 

To  see  a  imitating  b, 

Its  cousin-german  —  as  for  g, 

A  pair  of  spectacles  it  grows, 

And  mounts  on  little  Gerty's  nose  ! 

"  Well,  can  you  see  them  now,  my  child  ?  " 
Her  mother  asked,  in  accents  mild. 


LITTLE    DAELINGS.  67 

The  tear-drops  fall  from  Gertrude's  eyes, 
The  magic  mirror  vanishes, 
And  little  Gertrude  laughs,  "  Ha,  ha! 
I  know  my  letters,  now,  Mamma." 


SLEEPY    HARRY. 

"  I  DO  not  like  to  go  to  bed," 
Sleepy  little  Harry  said, 
"  Go,  naughty  Betty,  go  away, 
I  will  not  come  at  all,  I  say !  " 

Oh,  what  a  little  silly  fellow  ! 
I  should  be  quite  ashamed  to  tell  her ; 
Then,  Betty,  you  must  come  and  carry 
This  very  foolish  little  Harry. 

The  little  birds  are  better  taught, 
They  go  to  roosting  when  they  ought ; 
And  all  the  ducks,  and  fowls,  you  know, 
They  went  to  bed  an  hour  ago. 

The  little  beggar  in  the  street, 
Who  wanders  with  his  naked  feet, 
And  has  not  where  to  lay  his  head, 
Oh,  he  'd  be  glad  to  go  to  bed. 


68  HOME    SONGS    FOB 


THE    EVENING    PRAYER. 

IN  the  solemn  shade  of  the  twilight  sky, 
Which  tells  of  another  day  gone  by, 
In  the  hush  of  thy  home,  so  calm  and  free, 
Thou  art  kneeling,  child  !  at  thy  mother's  knee. 

And  they  that  kneel  in  the  proudest  fane, 
Of  sculptured  pillar,  and  pictured  pane, 
Of  breathing  censer,  and  jewelled  shrine, 
Have  found  no  altar  more  blest  than  thine. 

For   there   thou  hast  learned  to   praise   His 

might, 

"Who  guides  the  march  of  the  day  and  night : 
And  there  thou  hast  learned  to  seek  his  grace, 
"Who  makes  with  the  meek  his  dwelling-place. 

Say,  will  that  lesson  long  abide 
When  thou  art  far  from  thy  mother's  side, 
When  the  hair  is  gray  —  or  the  grave  is  green 
Of  her,  that  thine  earliest  love  has  been. 

When  the  snares  of  life  are  around  thee  set, 
And  the  cares  have  come  which  thou  knowest 
not  yet ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  69 

When  business  calls  thee  at  early  day, 
And  memories  deepen  the  evening's  gray. 

Whate'er  the  course  of  thine  after  track, 
Whate'er  the  change,  will  thy  heart  come  back, 
In  spite  of  sin,  and  in  spite  of  snare, 
To    thy  mother's    knee   and  thine    evening 


prayer 


GOING    TO    BED. 

DOWN  upon  my  pillow  warm, 

I  do  lay  my  little  head, 
And  the  rain,  and  wind,  and  storm, 

Cannot  come  too  nigh  my  bed. 

Dear  mamma,  I  thank  you  oft 
For  this  comfortable  bed, 

And  this  pretty  pillow  soft, 
Where  I  rest  my  little  head. 

I  shall  sleep  till  morning  light, 
On  a  bed  so  nice  as  this  ; 

So,  my  dear  mamma,  good-night, 
Give  your  little  girl  a  kiss. 


70 


HOME    SONGS    FOB 


LITTLE    RAIN-DROPS. 

WHERE  do  you  come  from, 
You  little  drops  of  rain, 

Fitter  patter,  pitter  patter, 
Down  the  window  pane  ? 

They  won't  let  me  walk, 
And  they  won't  let  me  play, 

And  they  won't  let  me  go 
Out  of  doors  at  all  to-day. 


They  put  away  my  playthings  . 

Because  I  broke  them  all, 
And  then  they  locked  up  all  my  hricks, 

And  took  away  my  ball. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  71 

Tell  me,  little  rain-drops, 

Is  that  the  way  you  play, 
Fitter  patter,  pitter  patter, 

All  the  rainy  day  ? 

They  say  I  'm  very  naughty, 

But  I  've  nothing  else  to  do, 
But  sit  here  at  the  window  ; 

I  should  like  to  play  with  you. 

The  little  rain  drops  cannot  speak, 

But  "  pitter,  pitter  pat  " 
Means,  we  can  play  on  this  side, 

Why  can't  you  play  on  that  ? 


THE    CHERRY-TREE. 

FREDDIE  saw  some  fine  ripe  cherries 
Hanging  on  a  cherry-tree  ; 

And  he  said,  "  You  pretty  cherries, 
"Will  you  not  come  down  to  me  ?  " 

"  Thank  you  kindly,"  said  a  cherry, 
"  We  would  rather  stay  up  here ; 

If  we  ventured  down  this  morning, 
You  would  eat  us  up,  I  fear." 

One,  the  finest  of  the  cherries, 
Dangling  from  a  slender  twig ; 


72  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

"  You  arc  beautiful,"  said  Freddie, 
"  Red  and  ripe,  and  oh,  how  big  !  " 

"  Catch  me,"  said  the  cherry,  "  catch  roc, 

Little  roaster,  if  you  can  !  " 
"  I  would  catch  you  soon,"  said  Freddie, 

"  If  I  were  a  grown  up  man." 

Freddie  jumped  and  tried  to  reach  it, 

Standing  high  upon  his  toes  ; 
But  the  cherry  bobbed  about, 

And  laughed  and  tickled  Freddie's  nose. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  little  Freddie, 
"  I  shall  have  them  when  it 's  right," 

But  a  blackbird  whistled  boldly, 
"  I  shall  eat  them  all  to-night." 


THE    VAIN    LITTLE     GIRL. 

WHAT  !  looking  in  the  glass  again ! 
Why  is  my  silly  child  so  vain  ? 
Do  you  think  yourself  as  fair 
As  the  gentle  lilies  are  ? 

Is  your  merry  eye  as  blue 
As  the  violet's,  wet  with  dew  ? 
Yet  it  loves  the  best  to  hide 
By  the  hedge's  shady  side. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 

When  your  cheek  the  brightest  glows, 
Is  it  redder  than  the  rose  ? 
But  the  rose's  buds  are  seen 
Almost  hid  with  moss  and  green. 

Little  flowers,  that  open  gay, 
Peeping  forth  at  break  of  day, 
In  the  garden,  hedge,  or  plain, 
Do  you  think  that  they  are  vain  ? 


BABY    AND    MAMMA. 

WHAT  a  little  thing  am  I ! 

Hardly  higher  than  the  table ; 
I  can  eat,  and  play,  and  cry, 

But  to  work  I  am  not  able. 

Nothing  in  the  world  I  know, 

But  mamma  will  try  and  show  me  ; 

Sweet  mamma,  I  love  her  so, 
She 's  so  very  kind  unto  me. 

And  she  sets  me  on  her  knee 
Very  often  for  some  kisses  : 

Oh  !  how  good  I  '11  try  to  be, 

For  such  a  dear  mamma  as  this  is. 


74 


THE    SOLDIER. 

"  OH,  I  wish  I  was  a  soldier, 
So  gallant  and  so  bold, 
To  ride  upon  a  noble  horse, 
All  trimmed  with  shining  gold. 

"  To  lead  my  men  to  battle, 
At  the  loud  drum's  stirring  call, 
And  charge  upon  the  enemy, 
Nor  fear  the  leaden  ball. 


LITTLE    DAELINGS.  75 

"  And  when  the  battle 's  over, 
How  proudly  I  'd  return  ; 
The  '  triumphs  of  a  conqueror,' 
Upon  my  cheeks  would  burn." 

"  But  ah !  my  son,  you  have  forgot, 
Upon  the  bloody  ground, 
At  the  close  of  every  battle, 
A  heap  of  slain  are  found. 

"  And  wounded  too,  and  dying 
On  the  cold  and  bloody  ground, 
Far  away  from  home  and  kindred, 
Not  a  friend  to  stanch  a  wound. 

"  No  kind  and  gentle  mother, 
To  bless  her  darling  child, 
Or  whisper  hope  and  comfort, 
On  that  field  so  sad  and  wild. 

"  Never,  wish  to  be  a  soldier, 
'T  is  a  life  to  be  abhorred ; 
But  let  thy  aim  be  higher, 
Be  a  soldier  of  the  Lord." 


16  HOMESONGSFOR 


THE    LITTLE    CHILD. 

I  'M  a  very  little  child, 

Only  just  have  learned  to  speak  ; 
So  I  should  be  very  mild, 

Very  tractable  and  mock. 

If  my  dear  mamma  were  gone, 
I  should  perish  soon,  and  die, 

When  she  left  me  all  alone, 
Such  a  little  thing  as  I !      , 

Oh,  what  service  can  I  do, 
To  repay  her  for  her  care  ? 

For  I  cannot  even  sew, 

Nor  make  any  thing- 1  wear. 

Oh,  then,  I  will  always  try 
To  be  very  good  and  mild  ; 

Never  now  be  cross  and  cry, 
Like  a  fretful  little  child. 

For  sometimes  I  cry  and  fret, 
And  my  dear  mamma  I  tease ; 

Or  I  vex  her,  while  I  sit 

Playing  pretty  on  her  knees. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  77 

Oh,  how  can  I  serve  her  so, 
Such  a  good  mamma  as  this ! 

Round  her  neck  my  arms  I  '11  throw, 
And  her  gentle  cheeks  I  '11  kiss. 

Then  I  '11  tell  her  that  I  will 
Try  not  any  more  to  fret  her, 

And  as  I  grow  older  still, 

Try  to  show  I  love  her  better. 


THE    SPARROW  AT   THE    WINDOW. 

COME,  give  him,  child,  a  bread  crumb  ; 

For  all  the  hills  are  bare,  — 
No  rustle  in  the  cornfield, 

No  music  in  the  air. 

The  flowers  all  are  withered, 

The  leaves  are  lying  dead, 
And  now  the  thriftless  sparrow 

Comes  begging  for  his  bread. 

The  little  merry  squirrel 

Hath  hoarded  up  his  store, — 

He  's  nuts  enough  to  last  him 
Till  summer  comes  once  more. 


78  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

He  knew  the  time  was  coming 
When  he  must  needs  be  fed  ; 

But,  idling  through  the  summer, 
The  sparrow  now  wants  bread. 

Child,  feed  him,  —  he  is  hungry  ; 

But  take  for  thee  this  truth, — 
The  spring  of  life  is  childhood, 

Its  summer  day  is  youth. 

Lay  up  in  spring  and  summer 
A  store  from  learning's  page, 

For  the  autumn  hour  of  manhood, 
The  winter  time  of  age. 


THE    YOUNG   LINNETS. 

DID  you  ever  see  the  nest 
Of  Chaffinch  or  of  Linnet, 

When  the  little  downy  birds 
Are  lying  snugly  in  it, 

Gaping  wide  their  yellow  mouths 
For  something  nice  to  eat  ? 

Caterpillar,  worm,  and  grub, 
They  reckon  dainty  meat. 


LITTLE  DARLINGS.  79 

When  the  mother  bird  returns, 
And  finds  them  still  and  good, 

She  will  give  them  each  by  turns 
A  proper  share  of  food. 

She  has  hopped  from  spray  to  spray, 
And  peeped  with  knowing  eye 

Into  all  the  folded  leaves 
Where  caterpillars  lie. 

She  has  searched  among  the  grass, 

And  flown  from  tree  to  tree, 
Catching  gnats  and  flies,  to  feed 

Her  little  family. 

I  have  seen  the  Linnets  chirp, 
And  shake  their  downy  wings  • 

They  are  pleased  to  see  her  come, 
And  pleased  with  what  she  brings. 

But  I  never  saw  them  look 

Impatient  for  their  food. 
Somebody,  at  dinner  time, 

Is  seldom  quite  so  good. 


80  HOME    SONGS    FOR 


ROBIN'S    WELCOME. 

THE  summer  loaves  have  perished, 

The  harvest  corn  is  gone, 
Thy  head  can  find  no  shelter 

"When  the  heavy  storm  comes  on. 

But  in  our  dwelling  waits  thee 

A  welcome  kind  and  free, 
And  while  there  's  hread  among  us 

We  have  a  crumb  for  thee. 

Thou  hast  sung  beside  our  door,  Robin, 
When  the  spring  was  drawing  near ; 

Thou  hast  cheered  our  fading  garden 
In  the  baf-fall  of  the  year. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  81 

From  cottage,  roof,  or  ruin, 
From  tree-top  bare  and  brown  ; 

Like  a  voice  sent  back  from  summer 
Thy  silvery  notes  came  down. 

Through  many  a  land  and  age,  Robin, 
The  children  know  thee  thus  : 

Thou  wert  welcome  to  our  fathers, 
Thou  art  welcome  now  to  us. 

And  men  of  toil  and  travel 

In  far  off  lands  that  roam, 
Still  greet  thee  as  the  household  friend, 

The  kindly  bird  of  home. 

Come  in  from  the  fierce  wind,  Robin, 
And  from  the  drifting  snow ; 

Thou  shalt  have  rest  and  refuge, 
Thou  shalt  be  free  to  go. 

And  when  the  evenings  brighten, 
And  winter  slacks  his  reign ; 

Before  the  violet  blossoms 
Thou  shalt  sing  to  xis  again. 

6 


HOME    SONGS    FOR 


PUSSY-CAT. 

PUSSY-CAT  lives  in  the  servant's  hall, 
She  can  set  up  her  back,  and  purr  ; 

The  little  mice  live  in  a  crack  in  the  wall, 
But  they  hardly  dare  venture  to  stir  ; 

For  whenever  they  think  of  taking  the  air, 

Or  filling  their  little  maws, 
The  Pussy-Cat  says,  "  Come  out,  if  you  daro  ; 

I  will  catch  you  all  with  my  claws." 

Scrabble,  scrabble,  scrabble,  went  all  the  little 
mice, 

For  they  smelt  the  Cheshire  cheese  ; 
The  Pussy-Cat  says,  "  It  smells  very  nice, 

Now,  DO  come  out,  if  you  please." 

"  Squeak,"  said  the  little  mouse ;  "  squeak, 
squeak,  squeak," 

Said  all  the  young  ones  too  ; 
"  We  never  creep  out  when  cats  are  about, 

Because  we  're  afraid  of  YOU." 

So  the  cunning  old  Cat  lay  down  on  a  mat 
By  the  fire  in  the  servants'  hall : 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  83 

"  If  the  little  mice  peep,  they  '11  think  I  'm 

asleep ; " 
So  she  rolled  herself  up  like  a  ball. 

"  Squeak,"    said    the    little  mouse,    "  we  '11 
creep  out 

And  eat  some  Cheshire  cheese, 
That  silly  old  Cat  is  asleep  on  the  mat, 

And  we  may  sup  at  our  ease." 

Nibble,  nibble,  nibble  went  all  the  little  mice, 
And  they  licked  their  little  paws ; 

Then  the  cunning  old  Cat  sprang  up  from  the 

mat, 
And  caught  them  all  with  her  claws. 


THE    TURTLE-DOVE'S    NEST. 

VERY  high  in  the  pine-tree, 

The  little  Turtle-dove 
Made  a  pretty  little  nursery, 

To  please  her  little  love. 

She  was  gentle,  she  was  soft, 
And  her  large  dark  eye 

Often  turned  to  her  mate, 
Who  was  sitting  close  by. 


84  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

"  Coo,"  said  the  Turtle-dove. 

"  Coo,"  said  she. 
"  Oh,  1  love  thee,"  said  the  Turtle-dove. 

"  And  I  love  THEE." 

In  the  long  shady  branches 

Of  the  dark  pine-tree, 
How  happy  were  the  doves 

In  their  little  nursery ! 

The  young  turtle-doves 

Never  quarrelled  in  the  nest ; 

For  they  dearly  loved  each  other, 
Though  they  loved  their  mother  best. 

"  Coo,"  said  the  little  doves. 

"  Coo,"  said  she. 
And  they  played  together  kindly 

In  the  dark  pine-tree. 

Is  this  nursery  of  yours, 

Little  sister,  little  brother, 
Like  the  Turtle-dove's  nest  — 

Do  you  love  one  another  ? 

Are  you  kind,  are  you  gentle, 

As  children  ought  to  be  ? 
Then  the  happiest  of  nests 

Is  your  own  nursery. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


85 


MY    SISTER. 

Is  there  a  tie  of  human  birth 
Has  more  of  heaven  and  less  of  earth 
Than  home-born  love,  the  first  and  best 
That  warms  a  gentle  sister's  breast, 
Who  makes  the  little  ones  her  care, 
And  loves  their  pretty  sports  to  share  ? 

Like  dew  upon  the  tender  flower, 

Her  gentle  words  of  truth  and  power, 

With  wonder,  love,  and  joy  combined, 

Fall  on  her  little  brother's  mind  ; 

And  thoughts  that  spring  from  home-born 

love 
Point  to  the  Better  Land  above. 


86  HOME    SONGS    FOR 


THE    WATER-MILL. 

•'ANY  grist  for  the  31  ill?" 

How  merrily  it  goes ! 
Flap,  flap,  flap,  flap, 

While  the  water  flows. 
Round-about  and  round-about, 

The  heavy  mill-stones  grind, 
And  the  dust  flies  all  about  the  mill, 

And  makes  the  Miller  blind. 

"  Any  grist  for  the  Mill  ?  " 

The  jolly  farmer  packs 
His  wagon  with  a  heavy  load 

Of  very  heavy  sacks. 
Noisily,  oh  noisily, 

The  mill-stones  turn  about ; 
You  cannot  make  the  Miller  hear 

Unless  you  scream  and  shout. 

"  Any  grist  for  the  Mill  ?  " 

The  bakers  come  and  go  ; 
They  bring  their  empty  sacks  to  fill, 

And  leave  them  down  below. 
The  dusty  Miller  and  his  men 

Fill  all  the  sacks  they  bring, 
And  while  they  go  about  their  work, 

Right  merrily  they  sing. 


LITTLE    DAELINGS.  87 

"  Any  grist  for  the  Mill  ?  " 

How  quickly  it  goes  round  ! 
Splash,  splash,  splash,  splash, 

"With  a  Avhirring  sound. 
Farmers,  bring  your  corn  to-day  ; 

And  bakers,  buy  your  flour ; 
Dusty  millers,  work  away, 

While  it  is  in  your  power. 

'•Any  grist  for  the  Mill?" 

Alas  !  it  will  not  go  ; 
The  river,  too,  is  standing  still, 

The  ground  is  white  with  snow. 
And  when  the  frosty  weather  comes, 

And  freezes  up  the  streams, 
The  Miller  only  hears  the  Mill, 

And  grinds  the  corn  iii  dreams. 

Living  close  beside  the  Mill, 

The  Miller's  girls  and  boys 
Always  play  at  make-believe, 

Because  they  have  no  toys. 
"  Any  grist  for  our  Mill  ?  " 

The  elder  brothers  shout, 
While  all  the  little  Petticoats 

Go  whirling  round  about. 


88  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

The  Miller's  little  boys  and  girls 

Rejoice  to  see  the  snow. 
"  Good  father,  play  with  us  to-day ; 

You  cannot  work,  you  know. 
We  will  he  the  mill-stones, 

And  you  shall  be  the  wheel ; 
We  '11  pelt  each  other  with  the  snow, 

And  it  shall  be  the  meal." 


Oh,  heartily  the  Miller's  wife 

Is  laughing  at  the  door  ; 
She  never  saw  the  mill  worked 

So  merrily  before. 
"  Bravely  done,  my  little  lads, 

Rouse  up  the  lazy  wheel, 
For  money  comes  but  slowly  in 

When  snow-flakes  are  the  meal." 


CHRIST'S    HUMILITY. 

CHRIST  is  merciful  and  mild ; 
He  was  once  a  little  child ; 
He  whom  heavenly  hosts  adore, 
Lived  on  earth  among  the  poor. 


» 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  89 

Then  he  laid  his  glory  by, 
When  for  us  he  came  to  die ; 
How  I  wonder  when  I  see 
His  unbounded  love  for  me. 

Through  his  life  on  earth  I  see, 
Lowliness  and  poverty ; 
Oh  how  mean  was  his  abode, 
Though  he  was  the  mighty  God ! 

Children  in  his  arms  he  pressed, 
Kindly  took  them  to  his  breast ; 
They,  said  he,  shall  share  my  bliss, 
For  of  such  my  kingdom  is. 


GOD   KEEPS   ME. 

FROM  His  high  throne  above  the  sky, 
The  Lord  can  all  things  see ; 

I  cannot  see  Him,  but  His  eye 
Looks  kindly  down  on  me. 

He  cared  for  me  before  I  knew 
That  I  had  such  a  friend  ; 

When  my  first  feeble  breath  I  drew, 
He  did  my  life  defend. 


90  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

He  keeps  me  still  by  His  great  power, 
From  danger  night  and  day  ; 

I  could  not  live  a  single  hour 
If  he  were  far  away. 

But  He  is  always  near  and  kind, 
And  loves  to  hear  my  prayer ; 

May  I  His  tender  mercy  find, 
And  trust  His  love  and  care. 


PRAISE    FOR    MERCIES    SPIRITUAL    AND 
TEMPORAL. 

WHENE'ER  I  take  my  walks  abroad, 

How  many  poor  I  see  ! 
What  shall  I  render  to  my  God, 

For  all  his  gifts  to  me  ? 

Not  more  than  others  I  deserve, 

Yet  God  hath  given  more ; 
For  I  have  food,  while  others  starve, 

Or  beg  from  door  to  door. 

How  many  children  in  the  street, 

Half  naked  I  behold  ! 
While  I  am  clothed  from  head  to  feet, 

And  covered  from  the  cold. 


LITTLE    DAELINGS.  91 

While  some  poor  wretches  scarce  can  tell 
Where  they  may  lay  their  head ; 

I  have  a  home  wherein  to  dwell, 
And  rest  upon  my  bed. 


While  others  early  learn  to  swear, 
And  curse,  and  lie,  and  steal ; 

Lord,  I  am  taught  thy  name  to  fear, 
And  do  thy  holy  will. 

Are  these  thy  favors  day  by  day, 

To  me  above  the  rest  ? 
Then  let  me  love  thee  more  than  they, 

And  strive  to  serve  thee  best. 


92  HOME    SONGS    FOR 


GOD    ORDERS    ALL    THINGS. 

I  THANK  the  Lord  for  all  his  grace 

To  me  so  freely  shown  ; 
At  all  times,  and  in  every  place, 

His  goodness  let  me  own. 

It  was  not  chance  that  placed  me  here, 
"Where  I  am  trained  and  taught 

My  Maker's  name  to  know  and  fear, 
And  love  him  as  I  ought. 

The  Lord  in  wisdom  ordered  where 
And  when  my  birth  should  be, 

And  ever  since  with  tender  care 
He  has  watched  over  me. 

He  gives  me  all  things ;  day  by  day 
Fresh  mercies  does  he  send ; 

And  if  I  sin  them  not  away, 
He  will  be  still  my  friend. 


THE    ROBIN    REDBREASTS. 

Two  Robin  Redbreasts  built  their  nests 
Within  a  hollow  tree  ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  93 

The  lien  sat  quietly  at  home,  • 

The  cock  sang  merrily ; 
And  all  the  little  young  ones  said, 

"  Wee,  wee,  wee,  wee,  wee,  wee." 

One  day  (the  sun  was  warm  and  bright, 

And  shining  in  the  sky), 
Cock-robin  said,  "  My  little  dears, 

'T  is  time  you  learn  to  fly  ;  " 
And  all  the  little  young  ones  said, 

"  I  '11  try,  I  '11  try,  I  '11  try." 

I  know  a  child,  and  who  she  is 

I  '11  tell  you  by  and  by, 
"When  Mamma  says,  "  Do  this,"  or  "  that," 

She  says,  "  What  for  ?  "  and  "  Why  ?" 
She  'd  be  a  better  child  by  far 

If  she  would  say,  "  I  '11  try." 


THE    BIBLE    STORY. 

ONCE  among  a  band  of  brothers 
There  was  one,  his  father's  joy, 

Loved  so  fondly  that  the  others 
Looked  with  envy  on  the  boy, 

For  his  kindness  and  his  goodness 

Treated  him  with  scorn  and  rudeness. 


94  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

In  a  desert  place  they  threw  him 

Down  a  pit,  a  living  grave, 
And  when  up  again  they  drew  him 

'T  was  to  sell  him  for  a  slave, 
To  a  life  of  want  and  danger 
In  the  country  of  the  stranger. 

See  him  there  by  all  forsaken, 

Fettered  in  a  dungeon  lie, 
Yet  he  keeps  his  trust  unshaken, 

And  his  Father  hears  his  cry, 
Lifts  him  out  of  tribulation 
To  a  great  and  princely  station. 

Years  went  by,  and  to  that  city 
In  distress  his  brethren  came, 

Then,  unknown,  he  showed  them  pity, 
Never  spoke  a  word  of  blame, 

But  by  words  and  deeds  of  kindness 

Made  them  weep  their  guilt  and  blindness. 

In  your  youth  like  him  endeavor 
Thus  to  know  and  love  the  Lord, 

Choose  his  service,  seek  his  favor, 
Follow  Christ,  and  hear  his  word  — 

Once  this  heavenly  Friend  possessing, 

You  will  want  no  other  blessing. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  95 


OUR    GARDEN. 

IT  was  gay  in  the  spring-time  of  the  year, 

It  was  fair  at  autumn's  close  ; 
We  heard  the  earliest  cuckoo  there, 

And  we  saw  the  latest  rose. 

The  heart-ease  and  forget-me-not, 
They  were  natives  of  that  ground ; 

Our  garden  was  the  sunniest  spot 
In  all  the  country  round. 

There  was  many  a  quaint  and  bowery  nook, 
"Where  we  sat  in  summer's  heat, 

And  listened  to  the  silvery  brook, 
That  murmured  at  our  feet. 


96  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

There  were  herbs  of  old  belief  and  fame, 
There  were  hives  of  busy  bees, 

And  a  swell  of  leafy  sounds,  that  came 
When  the  wind  was  in  the  trees 

We  had  little  gardens  every  one, 

Myself  and  my  brothers  two, 
And  my  sister,  who  is  dead  and  gone  ; 

But  the  best  of  all  it  grew. 

I  cannot  tell  if  the  primrose  time 
Comes  now,  as  we  knew  it  then ; 

But  still  in  the  April  nights  I  dream 
We  are  there  at  work  again. 

The  merry  swing  and  the  mossy  well 
Were  hard  by  my  mother's  bower, 

Where  the  morning  rose  and  the  evening  fell 
Through  a  screen  of  leaf  and  flower. 

And  pleasant  was  old  Robin's  pride 

In  the  seasons  he  had  known, 
And  the  long  long  years  that  by  his  side 

The  silent  flowers  had  grown. 

He  said  the  hawthorn  hedge  had  put 
Forth  near  a  hundred  Mays, 


LITTLE    DAELINGS.  91 

And  boughs  from  the  holly  he  had  cut 
For  fifty  Christmas  days  ; 

That  the  cedar  stood  as  large  and  tall 
At  the  time  when  he  was  young, 

And  ever  since  in  the  ivy  wall 
Had  his  namesake  built  and  sung. 

The  turf  above  old  Robin's  breast 

Is  lying  green  and  cold  ; 
The  home  and  the  garden  we  loved  best 

To  a  stranger's  hand  are  sold. 

He  has  planted  hops  where  the  roses  grew, 
He  has  hewn  the  cedar  down  ; 

And  we  look  out  all  summer  through 
On  the  streets  of  this  great  town. 


A    COBWEB    MADE    TO    ORDER. 

A  HUNGRY  Spider  made  a  web 

Of  thread  so  very  fine, 
Your  tiny  fingers  scarce  could  feel 
The  little  slender  line. 

Round-about,  and  round-about 

And  round-about  it  spun, 
Straight  across  and  back  again 
Until  the  web  was  done. 
7 


98  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

Oh,  what  a  pretty  shining  web 

It  was,  when  it  was  done  ! 
The  little  flies  all  came  to  see 
It  hanging  in  the  sun. 

Round-about,  and  round-about, 

And  round-about  they  danced, 
Across  the  web  and  back  again 
They  darted  and  they  glanced. 

The  hungry  Spider  sat  and  watched 

The  happy  little  flies  ; 
It  saw  all  round  about  its  head, 
It  had  so  many  eyes. 

Round-about,  and  round-about, 

And  round-about  they  go, 
Across  the  web  and  back  again, 
Now  high  —  now  low. 


"  I  am  hungry,  very  hungry," 

Said  the  Spider  to  a  fly. 
"  If  you  were  caught  within  the  web, 
You  very  soon  should  die." 

But  round-about,  and  round-about, 

And  round-about  once  more, 
Across  the  web  and  back  again 
They  flitted  as  before. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 

For  ell  the  flies  were  much  too  wise 
•    To  venture  near  the  Spider ; 
They  flapped  their  little  wings  and  flew 
In  circles  rather  wider. 

Round-about,  and  round-about, 
And  round-about  went  they, 
Across  the  web  and  back  again, 
And  then  they  flew  away. 


THE    LADY-BIRD. 

LADY-BIRD,  Lady-bird,  warm  is  the  day, 
And  still  in  your  cloak  you  come  out ; 

Are  your  underneath  wings,  pray,  so  choice, 
That  you  wrap  them  so  closely  about  ? 

The  wings  that  you  fly  with,  I  know, 

Are  not  of  a  delicate  hue  ; 
For  sometimes  when  you  're  folding  them  up, 

There 's  a  small  piece  left  out  to  the  view. 

I  suppose  'tis  because  they  are  thin, 
With  care  they  are  hidden  away ; 

That  their  value  consists  in  their  use, 
So  nature  the  cover  made  gay. 

Then,  Lady-bird,  —  still  I  may  look, 
On  your  shining  red  cloak  with  delight, 

Admiring  its  pretty  black  spots, 

To  you  useful,  while  pleasant  to  sight. 


100  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

You're  related,  my  brother  has  learnt, 
To  the  beetle-tribe,  —  some  of  which  fly 

Beetles,  many  do  brilliant  coats  wear, 
There  are  others,  like  yours,  of  red  dye. 


GOOD-NIGHT. 


LITTLE  baby,  lay  your  head 

On  your  pretty  cradle-bed  ; 

Shut  your  eye-peeps,  new  the  day, 

And  the  light  has  gone  away  ; 

All  the  clothes  are  tucked  in  tight ; 

Little  baby  dear,  good-night. 

Yes,  my  darling,  well  I  know 
How  the  bitter  wind  doth  blow  ; 
And  the  winter's  snow  and  rain 
Patter  on  the  window-pane, 
But  they  cannot  come  in  here 
To  my  little  baby  dear : 

For  the  window  shutteth  fast, 
Till  the  stormy  night  is  past ; 
And  the  curtains  warm  are  spread 
Round  about  her  cradle-bed : 
80,  till  morning  shineth  bright, 
Little  baby  dear,  good-night. 


LITTLE    DAELIKGS. 


101 


MY    BOAT    ON    THE    LAKE. 

I  ONCE  made  a  boat  at  the  midsummer  time, 

When  our  lake  was  so  glassy  and  still, 
I  was  proud  of  her  build,  I  was  proud  of  her 
trim, 

And  rejoiced  in  the  might  of  my  skill. 
She  was  small,  and  her  timbers  were  not  over 
strong, 

But  I  thought  they  might  weather  a  blast ; 
A  pair  of  white  sails  bore  her  gaily  along, 

And  a  red  flag  flew  high  from  the  mast. 


102  HOME     SONGS     FOR 

1  launched  her  in  triumph !  my  young  sisters 

stood 

In  wonder  the  voyage  to  see  ; 
Poor  Watch  too  was  there,  saying,  plain  as  he 

could, 

There  will  none  of  you  drown  without  me. 
She  went  like  the  wind,  and  my  glory  was 

high, 

As  a  monarch's  might  be  in  his  crown, 
But  just  in  the  middle,  I  never  knew  why, 
The  light  vessel  heeled  and  went  down. 

With  her  disappeared  the  delight  of  that  day  — 

The  hope  of  my  holidays  all  —          [plav  — 
The  labor  of  hours  that  were  borrowed  from 

The  savings  so  prized  and  so  small.       [spot 
Poor  Watch,  at  my  bidding,  plunged  in  at  the 

Where  last  we  had  seen  her  afloat, 
The  dog  came  to  shore  again  weary  and  wet, 

But  he  never  could  bring  back  the  boat. 

Since  then  I  have  steered  a  good  ship  on  the 

sea, 

I  've  weathered  the  winds  of  the  world, 
And  seen  the  red  cross  from  the  mast  flying 

free, 
When  around  it  the  cannon  smoke  curled. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  103 

I  've  learned  to  take  wisely  life's  sunshine  or 

gale; 

I  tnist  a  fair  haven  to  make  ; 
But  many  a  brave  hope,  that  went  out  in  full 

sail, 
Has  gone  down  like  my  boat  on  the  lake. 


THE    PET    LAMB. 

ONCE  on  a  time,  a  shepherd  lived 

Within  a  cottage  small ; 
The  gray  thatched  roof  was  shaded  by 

An  elm-tree  dark  and  tall ; 
While  all  around  stretched  far  away 

A  wild  and  lonesome  moor, 
Except  a  little  daisied  field 

Before  the  trellised  door. 

Now  it  was  on  a  cold  March  day, 

When  011  the  moorland  wide, 
The  shepherd  found  a  trembling  lamb 

By  its  dead  mother's  side  ; 
And  so  pitiful  it  bleated, 

As  with  the  cold  it  shook, 
He  wrapped  it  up  beneath  his  coat, 

And  home  the  poor  lamb  took. 


104  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

He  placed  it  by  the  warm  fire-side, 

And  then  his  children  fed 
This  little  lamb,  whose  mother  died, 

With  milk  and  sweet  brown  bread, 
Until  it  ran  about  the  floor, 

Or  at  the  door  would  stand  ; 
And  grew  so  tame  it  ate  its  food 

From  out  the  children's  hand. 

It  followed  them  where'er  they  went, 

Came  ever  at  their  call, 
And  dearly  was  this  pretty  lamb 

Beloved  by  them  all. 
And  often  on  a  market-day, 

"When  cotters  crossed  the  moor, 
They  stopped  to   praise   the    snow-white 
lamb 

Beside  the  cottage  door ; 
They  patted  it  upon  its  head, 

And  stroked  it  with  the  hand, 
And  vowed  it  was  the  prettiest  lamb 

They  'd  seen  in  all  the  land. 

Now  this  kind  shepherd  was  as  ill, 

As  ill  as  he  could  be, 
And  kept  his  bed  for  many  a  week, 

And  nothing  earne'd  he ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  105 

And  when  lie  had  got  well  again, 

He  to  his  wife  did  say, 
"  The  doctor  wants  his  money,  and 

I  have  n't  it  to  pay. 

"  What  shall  we  do,  what  can  we  do  ? 

The  doctor 's  made  me  well, 
There 's  only  one  thing  can  be  done, 

We  must  the  pet  lamb  sell ; 
We  've  nearly  eaten  all  the  bread, 

And  how  can  we  get  more, 
Unless  you  call  the  butcher  in, 

When  he  rides  by  the  door  ? " 

"  Oh,  do  not  sell  my  white  pet  lamb," 

Then  little  Mary  said, 
"  And  every  night  I  '11  go  up  stairs 

Without  my  tea  to  bed  ; 
For  if  the  butcher  buys  my  lamb, 

He  '11  take  away  its  life, 
And  make  its  pretty  white  throat  bleed, 

With  his  sharp  cruel  knife  ; 

"  And  never  in  the  morning  light 

Again  it  will  me  meet, 
Nor  come  again  to  lick  my  hand, 

Look  up  to  me  and  bleat. 


106  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

Oh,  do  not  sell  my  sweet  pet  lamb ; 

And  if  you  '11  let  it  live, 
The  best  half  of  my  bread  and  milk 

I  will  unto  it  give." 
The  doctor  at  that  very  time 

Entered  the  cottage  door, 
As,  with  her  arms  around  her  lamb, 

She  sat  upon  the  floor. 

"  Why  do  you  weep,  my  pretty  girl  ? " 

The  doctor  then  did  say. 
"  Because  I  love  my  little  lamb, 

Which  must  be  sold  to-day  ; 
It  lies  beside  my  bed  at  night,  — 

And,  oh,  it  is  so  still, 
It  never  made  a  bit  of  noise 

When  father  was  so  ill. 

Oh,  do  not  let  them  sell  my  lamb, 

And  then  I  '11  go  to  bed, 
And  never  ask  for  aught  to  eat 

But  a  small  piece  of  bread." 
"  I  '11  buy  the  lamb  and  give  it  you," 

The  kind  good  doctor  said, 
"  And  with  the  money  that  I  pay, 

Your  father  can  buy  bread. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  10/ 

"  As  for  the  bill,  that  can  remain 

Until  another  year." 
He  paid  the  money  down,  and  said, 

"  The  lamb  is  yours,  my  dear. 
You  have  a  kind  and  gentle  heart, 

And  God,  who  made  us  all, 
He  loveth  well  those  who  are  kind 

To  creatures  great  and  small ; 

"  And  while  I  live,  my  little  girl, 

Your  lamb  shall  not  be  sold, 
But  play  with  you  upon  the  moor, 

And  sleep  within  the  fold." 
And  so  the  white  pet  lamb  was  saved, 

And  played  upon  the  moor, 
And  after  little  Mary  ran 

About  the  cottage  floor. 

It  fed  upon  the  cowslips  tall, 

And  ate  the  grass  so  sweet, 
And  on  the  little  garden  walk 

Pattered  its  pretty  feet ; 
And  with  its  head  upon  her  lap 

The  little  lamb  would  lay 
Asleep  beneath  the  elm-tree's  shade, 

Upon  the  summer's  day, 
While  she  twined  flowers  annmd  its  neck, 

And  called  it  her  "  Sweet  May." 


108 


HOME    SONGS    FOR 


THE    FAIRY    RING. 

LET  us  laugh  and  let  us  sing, 
Dancing  in  a  merry  ring  ; 
We  '11  be  fairies  on  the  green, 
Sporting  round  the  fairy  queen. 


Like  the  seasons  of  the  year, 
Roiind  we  circle  in  a  sphere  : 
I  '11  be  summer,  you  '11  be  spring, 
Dancing  in  a  fairy  ring. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  109 

Harry  will  be  winter  wild, 
Little  Charlie,  autumn  mild  ; 
Summer,  autumn,  winter,  spring, 
Dancing  in  a  fairy  ring. 

Spring  and  summer  glide  away, 
Autumn  comes  with  tresses  gray, 
Winter,  hand  in  hand  with  spring, 
Dancing  in  a  fairy  ring. 

Faster  !  faster  !  round  we  go, 
While  our  cheeks  like  roses  glow. 
Free  as  birds  upon  the  wing, 
Dancing  in  a  fairy  ring. 


ARTHUR'S    ROCKING-HORSE. 

Do,  dear  aunt,  —  do  come  and  see 
What  dear  papa  has  bought  for  me ; 
Come,  now  come, —  'tis  in  the  lobby  :  — 
I  can  ride  it,  —  I  can  guide  it ; 
Papa  says  'tis  "  Arthur's  Hobby." 

* 

Ah,  dear  aunt,  you  well  may  stare, — 
My  Rocking-horse  is  standing  there  ; 


110  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

And  when  mounted  on  him,  fairly. 
I  can  back  him,  —  I  can  check  him, 
Or  I  make  him  gallop  rarely. 

See  my  foot  in  stirrup  set, 
Springing  nimbly,  up  I  get, 
And,  horseman  like,  I  seize  the  bridle : 
Up  I  rein  him,  down  constrain  him, 
He  never  wishes  to  be  idle. 

Yes,  dear  Arthur,  well  you  ride, 

And  mount  with  grace,  'tis  not  denied ; 

I'll  name  your  horse,  —  "Amazing  Bobby." 
Dappled  gray,  sir,  —  he 's  a  racer ; 

Pa'  may  call  him  "  Arthur's  Hobby." 

Many  ride  for  riding's  sake, — 
You  as  good  a  journey  make  ; 
Theirs  the  world,  and  yours  the  lobby : 
From  employment  springs  enjoyment, 
Romp  at  home,  then,  "  Arthur's  Hobby." 


THREE    LITTLE    EGGS. 

HERE'S  a  nest  in  the  hedge  row, 

Half  hid  by  the  leaves, 
And  the  sprays,  white  with  blossom, 

Bend  o'er  it  like  eaves. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  Ill 

Look  in  very  softly 

Between  the  green  boughs, 
While  the  mother  is  absent, 

God  watches  the  house. 

Straw  walls,  and  a  lining 

Of  mosses  and  wool, 
Well  wrought  the  small  mason, 

His  bill  all  his  tool. 

Three  eggs,  blue  and  speckled, 

Are  all  it  will  hold, 
But  more  dear  to  the  mother 

Than  diamonds  and  gold. 

She  is  happy  and  thankful 

The  whole  summer  long, 
With  her  mate  perching  near  her 

And  warbling  his  song. 

God  gave  them  their  lodging, 

He  gives  them  their  food, 
And  they  trust  he  will  give  them 

Whatever  is  good. 

Ah,  when  your  rich  blessings, 
My  child,  you  forget, 


112  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

When  for  some  little  trouble 
You  murmur  and  fret, 

Hear  the  sweet  voices  singing 
In  hedges  and  trees, 

Will  you  be  less  thankful, 
Less  trustful  than  these  ! 


RISING    IN    THE    MORNING. 

THRICE  welcome  to  my  opening  eyes 
The  morning  beam,  which  bids  me  rise 

To  all  the  joys  of  youth  ; 
For  thy  protection,  whilst  I  slept, 
0  Lord,  my  humble  thanks  accept, 

And  bless  my  lips  Avith  truth. 

Like  cheerful  birds,  as  I  begin 

This  day,  0  keep  my  soul  from  sin  — 

And  all  things  shall  be  well. 
Thou  gav'st  me  health,   and   clothes,  and 

food, 
Preserve  me  innocent  and  good, 

Till  evening  curfew  bell. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


113 


THE    CROCODILE. 

IN  the  muddy  waters 
Of  the  Hindoo  home, 

Far  beyond  our  country, 
Does  this  monster  roam. 

There  he 's  worshipped  daily, 
By  that  idol  throng, 

Where  they  know  no  better,, 
Than  to  do  this  wrong. 

Mothers  throw  their  infants 
To  his  open  j  iws, 


114  no  HE   SONGS  FOR 

Know  not  they  are  breaking 
God's  eternal  laws. 

Pray  to  God,  my  children, 
When  to-night  you  kneel, 

He  will  to  these  heathen 
His  true  Word  reveal. 


BREAKFAST    AND    PtTSS. 

HERE'S  my  baby's  bread  and  milk, 
For  her  lip  as  soft  as  silk  ; 
Here  's  the  basin  clean  and  neat, 
Here 's  the  spoon  of  silver  sweet, 
Here 's  the  stool,  and  here  's  the  chair, 
For  my  little  lady  fair. 

No,  you  must  not  spill  it  out, 
And  drop  the  bread  and  milk  about ; 
But  let  it  stand  before  you  flat, 
And  pray  remember  pussy-cat : 
Poor  old  pussy-cat,  that  purrs, 
All  so  patiently  for  hers. 

True  she  runs  about  the  house, 
Catching  now  and  then  a  mouse, 


LITTLE    DARLINGS,  115 

But,  though  she  thinks  it  very  nice, 
That  only  makes  a  tiny  slice  : 
So  don't  forget  that  you  should  stop, 
And  leave  poor  puss  a  little  drop. 


THE    OOOD    SHEPHERD. 

HEAVENLY  Shepherd !  blest  are  all 
Who  have  heard  thy  gracious  call, 
Whom  thou  guidest  in  the  way, 
Whom  thou  watchest  night  and  day, 
Poor  and  helpless  though  they  be ; 
Blest  are  all  that  follow  thee. 

By  the  quiet  waters  led, 
In  the  pleasant  pastures  fed, 
Guarded  well  from  every  harm, 
Carried  on  thy  faithful  arm, 
Weak  and  sinful  though  they  be, 
Blest  are  all  that  follow  thee. 

Jesus,  Shepherd  kind  and  good, 
Thou  for  me  hast  shed  thy  blood ; 
Though  a  little  child  I  am, 
In  thy  flock  is  many  a  lamb, 
Make  me  one,  and  let  me  be 
Ever  glad  to  follow  thee. 


116  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

My  weak  footsteps  gently  lead, 
"Where  thy  happy  flock  doth  feed, 
In  thy  bosom  let  me  lie, 
All  my  daily  wants  supply, 
Now  and  ever  let  me  he 
Willing,  Lord,  to  follow  thee. 


THE    HAND    POST. 

THE  night  was  dark,  the  sun  was  hid 
Beneath  the  mountain  gray : 

And  not  a  single  star  appeared, 
To  shoot  a  silver  ray. 

Across  the  path  the  owlet  flew, 
And  screamed  along  the  blast, 

And  onward,  with  a  quickened  step, 
Benighted  Henry  passed. 

At  intervals,  amid  the  gloom 
A  flash  of  lightning  played, 

And  showed  the  ruts  with  water  filled, 
And  the  black  hedge's  shade. 

Again,  in  thickest  darkness  plunged 
He  groped  his  way  to  find  ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  117 

And  now  he  thought  he  spied  beyond 
A  form  of  horrid  kind. 

In  deadly  white  it  upward  rose, 

Of  cloak  or  mantle  bare, 
And  held  its  naked  arms  across, 

To  catch  him  by  the  hair. 

Poor  Henry  felt  his  blood  run  cold, 
\        At  what  before  him  stood  ; 

But  well,  thought  he,  no  harm,  I  'm  sure, 
Can  happen  to  the  good. 

So  calling  all  his  courage  up, 

He  to  the  goblin  went ; 
And  eager  through  the  dismal  gloom 

His  piercing  eyes  he  bent. 

And  when  he  came  well  nigh  the  ghost 

That  gave  him  such  affright, 
He  clapped  his  hands  upon  his  side, 

And  loudly  laughed  outright. 

For  't  was  a  friendly  hand-post  stood 
His  wandering  steps  to  guide ; 

And  thus  he  found  that  to  the  good 
No  evil  can  betide. 


118  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

And  well,  thought  he,  one  thing  I  've  learnt, 

Nor  soon  shall  I  forget, 
Whatever  frightens  me  again, 

To  march  straight  up  to  it. 

And  when  I  hear  an  idle  tale 

Of  goblins  and  a  ghost, 
I  '11  tell  of  this  my  lonely  ride, 

And  the  tall  white  Hand  Post. 


GOING    TO    BED    AT    NIGHT. 

RECEIVE  my  body,  pretty  bed ! 
Soft  pillow,  oh,  receive  my  head ! 

And  thanks,  my  parents  kind, 
Those  comforts  who  for  me  provide  ; 
Their  precepts  still  shall  be  my  guide, 

Their  love  I  '11  keep  in  mind. 

My  hours  misspent  this  day  I  rue, 
My  good  things  done,  how  very  few ! 

Forgive  my  fault,  O  Lord  ! 
This  night,  if  in  thy  grace  I  rest, 
To-morrow  may  I  rise  refreshed, 

To  keep  thy  holy  word. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


119 


A    HUMBLE    MIND. 

SINCE  I  am  a  little  child, 
Humble  I  should  be,  and  mild, 
Always  ready  to  be  taught, 
And  to  do  the  things  I  ought. 

When  I  cannot  have  my  way, 
I  must  no  ill-will  display, 
But  must  learn  to  bend  my  will, 
And  be  kind  and  gentle  still. 

Pride  and  anger  I  must  shun, 
Nor  be  rude  to  any  one  ; 


120  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

Evil  tempers  nrnst  not  rise 
To  offend  God's  holy  eyes. 

Lord,  thy  grace  and  help  I  seek ; 
Make  me  humble,  modest,  meek  ; 
Poor  in  spirit  may  I  be, 
And  submit  myself  to  thee. 


GOME    AND    PLAY. 

LITTLE  sister,  come  away 
And  let  us  in  the  garden  play, 
For  it  is  a  pleasant  day. 

On  the  grass  plat  let  us  sit, 

Or,  if  you  please,  we  '11  play  a  bit, 

And  run  about  all  over  it. 

But  the  fruit  we  will  not  pick, 
For  that  would  be  a  naughty  trick, 
And  very  likely  make  us  sick. 

Nor  will  we  pick  the  pretty  flowers 
That  grow  about  the  beds  and  bowers, 
Because  you  know  they  are  not  ours. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  121 

We  '11  take  the  daisies,  white  and  red, 
Because  mamma  has  often  said, 
That  we  may  gather  them  instead. 

And  much  I  hope  we  always  may 
Our  very  dear  mamma  obey, 
And  mind  whatever  she  may  say. 


GREEDY    RICHARD. 

"  I  THINK  I  want  some  pies  this  morning," 
Said  Dick,  stretching  himself  and  yawning ; 
So  down  he  threw  his  slate  and  books, 
And  sauntered  to  the  pastry-cook's. 

And  there  he  cast  his  greedy  eyes 
Round  on  the  jellies  and  the  pies, 
So  to  select,  with  anxious  care, 
The  very  nicest  that  was  there. 

At  last  the  point  was  thus  decided, 
As  his  opinion  was  divided 
'Twixt  pie  and  jelly,  he  was  loth 
Either  to  leave — so  took  them  both. 

Now  Richard  never  could  be  pleased 
To  eat  till  hunger  was  appeased ; 


122  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

But  he  'd  go  on  to  cram  and  stuff, 
Long  after  he  had  had  enough. 

I  shan't  take  any  more,"  said  Dick. 
"  Dear  me,  I  feel  extremely  sick, 
I  cannot  eat  this  other  bit ; 
I  wish  I  had  not  tasted  it." 

Then  slowly  rising  from  his  seat, 
He  threw  the  cheesecake  in  the  street, 
And  left  the  tempting  pastry-cook's 
With  very  discontented  looks. 

Just  then  a  man  with  wooden  log 
Met  Dick,  and  held  his  hat  to  beg : 
And  while  he  told  his  mournful  case, 
Looked  at  him  with  imploring  face. 

Dick,  wishing  to  relieve  his  pain, 

His  pockets  searched,  but  searched  in  vain, 

And  so  at  last  he  did  declare 

He  had  not  got  a  farthing  there. 

The  beggar  turned  with  face  of  grief, 
And  look  of  patient  unbelief, 
While  Richard,  now  completely  tamed, 
Felt  inconceivably  ashamed. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  123 

"  I  wish,"  said  lie  (but  wishing  's  vain), 
"  I  'd  got  my  money  back  again, 
And  had  not  spent  my  last,  to  pay 
For  what  I  only  threw  away. 

• 

"Another  time  I  '11  take  advice, 

And  not  buy  things  because  they  're  nice, 

But  rather  save  my  little  store 

To  give  poor  folks  who  want  it  more." 


IDLE    MARY. 


OH,  Mary,  this  will  never  do  ! 

This  work  is  sadly  done,  my  dear, 
And  then  so  little  of  it  too  ! 

You  have  not  taken  pains,  I  fear. 

Oh  no,  your  work  has  been  forgotten, 
Indeed  you  've  hardly  thought  of  that ; 

I  saw  you  roll  your  ball  of  cotton 
About  the  floor  to  please  the  cat. 

See,  here  are  stitches  straggling  wide, 
And  others  reaching  down  so  far ; 

I  'm  very  sure  you  have  not  tried 
In  this,  at  least,  to  please  mamma. 


124  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

The  little  girl  who  will  not  sew, 
Must  neither  be  allowed  to  play ; 

And  then  I  hope,  my  love,  that  you 
Will  take  more  pains  another  day. 


THE    FROLICSOME    KITTEN. 

DEAR  kitten,  do  lie  still,  I  say, 

1  really  want  you  to  be  quiet, 
Instead  of  scampering  away 

And  always  making  such  a  riot. 

There,  only  see !  you've  torn  my  frock, 
And  poor  mamma  must  put  a  patch  in ; 

I'll  give  you  a  right  earnest  knock, 
To  cure  you  of  the  trick  of  scratching. 

Nay,  do  not  scold  your  little  cat, 

She  does  not  know  what  'tis  you're  say- 
ing; 
And  every  time  you  give  a  pat, 

She  thinks  you  mean  it  all  for  playing. 

But  if  poor  pussy  understood 

The  lesson  that  you  want  to  teach  her, 
And  did  not  choose  to  be  so  good, 

She  'd  be,  indeed,  a  naughty  creature. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


125 


THE    HOOP. 

LIKE  a  bird  upon  the  bough, 
"When  the  summer  breezes  blow, 
And  the  woods  with  music  ring, 
Merrily,  merrily  voices  sing. 

School  is  closed  and  tasks  are  done, 
Flowers  are  laughing  in  the  sun,    ' 
Like  the  songsters  of  the  air, 
Pretty  ladies,  banish  care  ! 

Roll  away !  how  safe  it  goes ! 
Cheeks  are  glowing  like  the  rose, 
Health  and  joy  our  pastimes  bring, 
Merrily,  merrily  our  voices  ring. 


126  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

Liberty  makes  labor  sweet, 
Toil  is  followed  by  a  treat, 
Tasks  have  purchased  joy  and  play, 
And  the  summer  holiday. 

Boll  away  and  never  fear, 
Gladness  only  enters  here  ; 
Free  from  care  we  '11  laugh  and  sing, 
Merrily,  merrily  voices  ring ! 


PRECOCIOUS    PIGGY. 


WHERE  are  you  going  to,  yon  little  pig  ? 
"  I  'm  leaving   my  mother,  I  'm   growing  so 
big!" 

So  big,  young  pig, 

So  young,  so  big! 
What,  leaving  your  mother,  you  foolish  young 


Where  are  you  going  to,  you  little  pig  ? 

"  I  've  got  a  new  spade,  and  I  'm  going  to 

dig!" 

To  dig,  little  pig! 
A  little  pig  dig  ! 

Well,  I  never  saw  a  pig  with  a  spade  that  could 
dig! 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  127 

Where  are  you  going  to,  you  little  pig  ? 

"  Why,  I  'm  going  to  have  a  nice  ride  in  a 

gig!" 

In  a  gig,  little  pig ! 
What,  a  pig  in  a  gig ! 
Well,  I  never  yet  saw  a  pig  ride  in  a  gig ! 

Where  are  you  going  to,  you  little  pig  ? 

"  Well,  I  'm  going  to  the  Queen's  Head  to 

have  a  nice  swig ! " 
A  swig,  little  pig ! 
A  pig  have  a  swig ! 

What,  a  pig  at  the  Queen's  Head,  having  a 
swig! 

Where  are  you  going  to,  you  little  pig  ? 

"  Why,  I  'm  going  to  the  ball  to  dance  a  fine 

jig!" 

A  jig,  little  pig ! 
A  pig  dance  a  jig ! 
Well,  I  never  before  saw  a  pig  dance  a  jig! 

Where  are  you  going  to,  you  little  pig  ? 
"  I  'm  going  to  the  Fair  to  run  a  fine  rig !  " 

A  rig,  little  pig ! 

A  pig  run  a  rig ! 
Well,  I  never  before  saw  a  pig  run  a  rig ! 


128  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

Where  are  you  going  to,  you  little  pig ! 

"  I  'm  going  to  the  barber's  to  buy  me  a  wig !  " 

A  wig,  little  pig ! 

A  pig  in  a  wig ! 
"Why,  who  ever  before  saw  a  pig  in  a  wig  ? 

Where  are  you  going  to,  you  little  pig  ? 

"  The  butcher  is  coming,  I  've  grown  so  big  !  " 

The  butcher  !     Poor  pig  ! 

Are  you  grown  so  big  ? 

Well,  I  think  it  high  time  then  you  hop  the 
twig! 


THE    RAINBOW. 

THE  rain  is  nearly  over, 

And  brightening  comes  the  sun, 
And  from  their  leafy  shelter 

The  birds  hop  one  by  one. 

Their  chirping  voices  calling, 
I  think,  each  has  to  say 

The  Rainbow,  see  how  brilliant 
Its  colors  are,  and  gay. 

On  rain-wet  sprays  alighting, 
They  shake  the  pendant  drops, 


LITTLE     DARLINGS.  129 

As  if  each  knew  they  sparkle, 
And  glitter,  as  he  hops. 

Such  beads  of  shining  water 
From  that  rich  painted  Bow. 

The  sunbeams  on  them  falling, 
Produce  the  varied  glow. 

Then,  thinking  on  its  promise, 

Admiring  let  us  view, 
There,  blended  in  the  Rainbow, 

Bright  nature's  every  hue. 


EARLY    RISING. 

"I  LIKE  to  rise  early,  Louisa,"  said  Jane,— 
"  And  wake,  in  the  summer,  by  five  ; 

Then  with  dearest  papa,  I  walk  vip  the  lane, 
E'er  the  bee  sallies  forth  from  its  hive. 

"  I  have  learnt  of  papa,  to  think  that  the  day, 

Like  a  book,  should  be  properly  read, 
But  ill  it 's  perused,  —  the  first  page  thrown 

away,  — 

By  thoughtlessly  lying  in  bed. 
9 


130  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

"To  see  the  sun   rise, — what  aii  exquisite 

treat, 

The  sky  wearing  a  mantle  of  gold, 
And  the  birds  chirping  loud,  and  the  air  smell 

ing  sweet,  — 
The  half,  dear,  can  never  be  told. 

"  All  then  look  so  fresh, —  the  fields  and  the 
sky,— 

E'en  the  sun  in  the  morning  looks  new; — 
'Tis  pleasant  to  watch,  before  it  is  high, 

How  it  raises  the  night-veil  of  dew. 

"  Papa  then  directs  me  to  look  at  each  flower. 

And  tells  me  their  uses  besides ;  — 
Oh,  I  love  to  rise  early,  and  love  at  that  hour 

To  learn  from  so  truthful  a  guide." 


THE    BETTER    LAND. 

WHITHER,  pilgrims,  are  you  going 
Each  with  staff  in  hand  ? 

We  are  going  on  a  journey 
At  the  King's  command. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  131 

Over  plains,  and  hills,  and  valleys, 
We  are  going  to  His  palace 
In  the  better  land. 

Fear  ye  not  the  way  so  lonely, 

You,  a  feeble  band  ? 
No,  for  friends  unseen  are  near  us, 

Angels  round  us  stand. 
Christ,  our  leader,  walks  beside  us, 
He  will  guard  us,  —  He  will  guide  us 

To  the  better  land. 

Tell  me,  pilgrims,  what  you  hope  for 

In  the  better  land  ? 
Spotless  robes  and  crowns  of  glory 

From  a  Saviour's  hand. 
"We  shall  drink  of  Life's  clear  river, 
We  shall  dwell  with  God  forever, 

In  the  better  land. 

Will  you  let  me  travel  with  you 

To  the  better  land  ? 
Come  away  —  we  bid  you  welcome 

To  our  little  band. 

Come,  0  come  !  we  cannot  leave  you, 
Christ  is  waiting  to  receive  you 

In  the  better  land. 


132  HOME    SONGS    FOB 


FOR   THE    LORD'S    DAY   MORNING. 

THIS  is  the  day  when  Christ  arose 

So  early  from  the  dead  : 
"Why  should  I  keep  my  eyelids  closed, 

And  waste  my  hours  in  bed  ? 

This  is  the  day  when  Jesus  broke 
The  power  of  death  and  hell : 

And  shall  I  still  wear  Satan's  yoke, 
And  love  my  sins  so  well  ? 

To-day  with  pleasure  Christians  meet, 
To  pray  and  hear  thy  word ; 

And  I  will  go  with  cheerful  I'eet, 
To  learn  thy  will,  0  Lord. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  138 

I  '11  leave  my  sport  to  read  and  pray, 

And  so  prepare  for  heaven  : 
Oh  may  I  love  this  blessed  day, 

The  best  of  all  the  seven ! 


THE    KIND    MAMMA. 

COME,  dear,  and  sit  upon  my  knee, 
And  give  me  kisses,  one,  two,  three, 
And  tell  me  whether  you  love  me, 

My  baby. 

For  this  I  'm  sure,  that  I  love  you, 
And  many,  many  things  I  do, 
And  all  day  long  I  sit  and  sew 

For  baby. 

And  then  at  night  I  lie  awake, 
Thinking  of  things  that  I  can  make, 
And  trouble  that  I  mean  to  take, 

For  baby. 

And  when  you  're  good  and  do  not  cry, 
Nor  into  naughty  passions  fly, 
You  can't  tniiik  how  papa  and  I 

Love  baby. 


134  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

But  if  my  little  girl  should  grow 
To  be  a  naughty  child,  you  know, 
'T  would  grieve  niamuia  to  see  her  so, 

My  baby. 

And  when  you  saw  me  pale  and  thin, 
By  grieving  for  my  baby's  sin, 
I  think  you  'd  wish  that  you  had  been 
A  better  baby ! 


THE    FROG    WHO    WOULD    A    WOOING    GO. 

THERE  was  a  frog  lived  in  a  well, 
And  a  merry  mouse  lived  in  a  mill. 

This  froggy  would  a  wooing  go, 

But  could  n't  walk  for  the  corn  on  his  toe. 

So  he  mounted,  and  away  did  ride, 
With  a  sword  and  a  pistol  by  his  side. 

He  rode  till  he  came  to  Miss  Mouse's  hall, 
And  then  he  did  both  knock  and  call. 

"  Pray,  Miss  Mouse,  are  you  within  ?  " 
"  Oh,  yes,  kind  sir,  and  going  to  spin." 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  135 

"  Pray,  Miss  Mouse,  will  you  marriage  make, 
With  a  young  frog  that's  tall  and  straight  ?  " 

"  My  uncle  Rat  went  out  this  morn, 
And  I  won't  consent  till  his  return." 

Her  uncle  Rat  he  did  come  home, 
Saying,  "  Who 's  been  here  since  I  've  been 
gone  ?  " 

"  There 's  been  a  noble,  tall,  straight  man, 
Who  vows  he  '11  marry  me  if  he  can." 

"  We  '11  have  the  wedding  in  the  mill." 
"  Oh  yes,  kind  uncle,  so  we  will." 

Now  while  they  all  at  dinner  sat, 
In  came  the  kitten  and  the  cat. 

The  cat  seized  uncle  Rat  by  the  crown, 
The  kitten  pulled  the  poor  wife  down. 

The  mouse  she  did  run  up  the  wall, 
And  said,  "  Oh  dear  !  they  '11  kill  us  all." 

The  frog  he  did  run  Tip  the  brook, 
And  there  he  met  a  hungry  duck. 


136  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

The    d'ack    he    swallowed    her    down   his 

throat, 
Saying,   "  There 's   an   end   of   these    line 

folk." 


THE    WAY    TO    BE    HAPPY. 

How  pleasant  it  is,  at  the  end  of  the  day, 

No  follies  to  have  to  repent ! 
But  reflect  on  the  past,  and  be  able  to  say, 

That  my  time  has  been  properly  spent. 

When  I  've  done  all  my  business  with  patience 
and  care, 

And  been  good,  and  obliging,  and  kind  ; 
I  lie  on  my  pillow,  and  sleep  away  there, 

With  a  happy  and  peaceable  mind. 

But  instead  of  all  this,  when  it  must  be  con- 
fessed 

That  I  careless  and  idle  have  been, 
I  lie  down  as  usual  and  go  to  my  rest, 

But  feel  discontented  within. 

Then  as  I  don't  like  all  the  trouble  I  've  had, 

In  future  I  '11  try  to  prevent  it ; 
For  I  never  am  naughty  without  being  sad, 

Or  good  —  without  being  contented. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


137 


THE    WAVES    ON    THE    SEA-SHORE. 

ROLL  on,  roll  on,  you  restless  waves, 

That  toss  about  and  roar  ; 
Why  do  you  all  run  back  again 

When  you  have  reached  the  shore  ? 

Roll  on,  roll  on,  you  noisy  waves, 
Roll  higher  up  the  strand  ; 


138  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

How  is  it  that  you  cannot  pass 
That  line  of  yellow  sand  ? 

Make  haste,  or  else  the  tide  will  turn ; 

Make  haste,  you  noisy  sea  ; 
Roll  quite  across  the  bank,  and  then 

Far  on  across  the  lea. 

"  "We  must  not  dare,"  the  waves  reply: 

"  That  line  of  yellow  sand 
Is  laid  along  the  shore  to  bound 

The  waters  and  the  land  ; 

"  And  all  should  keep  to  time  and  place, 
And  all  should  keep  to  rule, 

Both  waves  upon  the  sandy  shore, 
And  little  boys  at  school." 


ABOUT    LEARNING    TO    READ. 

HEBE'S  a  gay  pretty  book,  full  of  verses  to 

sing, 

But  Lucy  can't  read  it ;  oh,  what  a  sad  thing ! 
And  such  funny  stories,  —  with  pictures,  too, 

—  look : 
I  am  glad  I  can  read  such  a  beautiful  book. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  139 

But  come,  little  Lucy,  now  what  do  you  say, 
Shall  I  begin  teaching  you  pretty  great  A  ? 
And  then  all  the  letters  that  stand  in  a  row  ? 
That  you  may  be  able  to  read  it,  you  know  ? 

A  great  many  children  have  no  kind  mamma 
To  teach  them  to  read,  and  poor  children  they 

are ; 

But  Lucy  shall  learn  all  her  letters  to  tell, 
And  I  hope  by  and  by,  she  will  read  very 

well. 


MISTER    FOX. 

A  Fox  went  out  in  a  hungry  plight, 
And  he  begged  of  the  moon  to  give  him  light, 
For  he  'd  many  miles  to  trot  that  night, 
Before  he  could  reach  his  den  0 ! 


And  first  he  came  to  a  farmer's  yard, 
Where  the  ducks  and  geese  declared  it  hard 
That  their  nerves  should  be  shaken,  and  their 

rest  be  marred, 
By  the  visit  of  Mister  Fox  0 ! 


140  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

He  took  the  gray  goose  by  the  sleeve ; 
Says  he,  "  Madam  goose,  and  by  your  leave, 
I  '11  take  you  away  without  reprieve, 

And  carry  you  home  to  my  den  0  ! " 

He  seized  the  black  duck  by  the  neck, 

And  swung  her  all  across  his  back. 

The  black  duck  cried  out  "  Quack !  quack ! 

quack ! " 
"With  her  legs  hanging  dangling  down  0  ! 

Then  old  Mrs.  Slipper-sloppcr  jumped  out  of 

bed, 

And  out  of  the  window  she  popped  her  head, — 
"  John,  John,  John,  the  gray  goose  is  gone, 
And  the  fox  is  off  to  his  den  0  !  " 

Then  John  he  went  up  to  the  hill, 

And  he  blew  a  blast  both  loud  and  shrill ; 

Says  the  fox,  "This  is  very  pretty  music  — 

still 
I  'd  rather  be  at  my  den  0  ! " 

At  last  the  fox  got  home  to  his  den  ; 
To  his  dear  little  foxes,  eight,  nine,  ten, 
Says  he,  "  You  're  in  luck,  here  's  a  good  fat 

duck, 
With  her  legs  hanging  dangling  down  0  ! " 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  l4l 

He  then  sat  down  with  his  hungry  wife ; 
They  did  very  well  without  fork  or  knife  ; 
They  never  ate  a  better  goose  in  all  their  life, 
And  the  little  ones  picked  the  bones  0 !  " 


BEFORE    MY    BROTHER    WENT    TO    SEA 

WE  did  not  mind  the  winters  then, 

Nor  care  how  loud  the  wind  might  blow  ; 

The  snow  might  fall,  and  freeze  again, 
The  lowering  clouds  might  come  and  go  ; 

Our  home  was  blithe,  our  hearts  were  free, 

B  )fore  my  brother  went  to  sea. 

But  now  my  mother's  cheek  grows  white 
To  hear  the  rising  of  the  blast ; 

My  father's  look  has  lost  its  light, 
And  slow  the  stormy  months  go  past. 

Things  are  not  as  they  used  to  be, 

Before  my  brother  went  to  sea. 

Yet,  though  the  ocean  wastes  be  wide, 
I  know  that  Providence  is  there  ; 

Nor  can  the  winds  and  waves  divide 
Our  absent  from  His  ceaseless  care. 

Therefore,  at  times,  it  seems  to  me, 

"  My  brother  will  come  safe  from  sea." 


142 


HOME    SONGS    FOB 


SISTER  MARY    AND   BROTHER  JOHN. 

THEY  had  one  seat  in  a  mossy  nook, 

They  learned  their  lessons  from  one  old  book, 

And  played  together  by  lane  and  brook. 

At  home  or  abroad,  in  house  or  lawn, 
When  holidays  reigned,  or  school  came  on, 
'Twas  "  Sister  Mary  and  Brother  John." 

They  feared  not  the  sun  that  made  them  brown, 
They  cared  not  for  winter's  frosty  frown, 
Nor  minded  how  fast  the  rain  came  down. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  143 

Parting  was  all  their  fear  and  dread ; 
Father  and  mother  both  were  dead, 
And  left  them  little,  the  neighbors  said. 

But  Mary  and  John  had  laid  a  scheme 
For  future  days  when  their  fortune  came, 
And  they  were  playing  the  grown  up  game. 

They  would  have  a  cottage  of  their  own, 
With  roses,  and  woodbine  overgrown, 
And  the  largest  fig-tree  ever  known. 

There  they  would  live  their  whole  lives  through, 
And  watch  how  the  figs  and  roses  grew ; 
I  wonder  if  it  all  came  true  ! 

For  far  from  our  village  they  have  gone, 
And  none  can  tell  us  how  things  go  on 
With  "  Sister  Mary  and  Brother  John." 


THE    MOUSE    WITH    A    BELL. 

IN  a  large  house,  some  mice,  — 
And  I  might  say  a  number,  — 

Nibbled  all  that  was  nice, 

And  disturbed  people's  slumber. 


144  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

For,  at  night,  their  sharp  teeth, 
All  to  get  at  cook's  larder, 

Were  heard  gnawing  beneath 

The  deal  floor,  —  or  wood  harder. 

"Well,  —  the  cook  checked  her  rage, 
And  considered  a  minute  ; 

Then  she  set  a  trap-cage, 

And  soon  caught  a  mouse  in  it. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  "  my  young  thief,  • 
This  bright  bell,  so  adorning, 

You  shall  wear  like  a  chief, 
To  give  other  rogues  warning." 

'Twas  then  tied  round  his  neck, 

And  away  in  a  twink'ling, 
Mousy  ran,  —  nor  looked  back, 
•  Perhaps  pleased  with  its  tink'ling. 

The  house  soon  became  clear 
Of  the  mice,  —  for  iione  tarried, 

The  sweet  music  to  hear, 

That  their  proud  brother  carried.. 

Cookey  thus  freed  the  house, 
But,  it  may  be  ne'er  pondered, 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  145 

I 

As  did  the  poor  mouse, 

The  while  lonely  he  wandered. 

"  Ah,"  he  said,  "  pride,  I  see, 

Wins  no  joy  for  its  owner ; 
For,  my  friends  —  how  they  flee, 

Leaving  me  a  sad  moaner." 

As  he  spoke,  —  lo !  a  jink  !  — 
'Twas  the  bell,  from  its  tying, 

Coming  loose  at  a  link, 

There  before  him  was  lying. 

Mousy  gave  a  great  leap, 

And  said,  all  in  a  twitter, 
"  There,  far  from  me  keep, 

With  your  music  and  glitter. 

"  For  my  friends,  now,  I'll  look, — 
Again  free  from  your  clatter : 

But  respects  to  the  cook,  — 
Should  you  ever  get  at  her." 

Polite  mousy  was  he 

To  the  lady  who  caught  him ; 
And  was  grateful,  may  be, 

For  the  lesson  so  taught  him. 
10 


145 


HOME    SONGS    FOR 


THE    FAITHFUL    DOG. 


A  LITTLE  boy,  one  summer  day, 
Went  out  into  the  fields  to  play  ; 
And,  pleased,  he  wandered  far  and  wide. 
With  faithful  Rover  by  his  side. 

"  But,"  said  he,  "  I  should  like  to  go 
To  some  clear  brook,  where  lilies  grow  ; " 
And  so  his  flowers  away  he  threw, 
Though  many  were  of  lovely  hue. 

The  water  gained,  —  right  glad  was  he 
Such  beauteous  lily-cups  to  see  ; 
To  the  green  banks  he  quickly  ran, 
And  soon  to  gather  them  began. 


But,  ah  !  — how  sad  the  talc  to  tell, — 
He  missed  his  step,  and  in  he  fell, 


LITTLE    DAELINGS.  147 

And  gliding  from  the  sloping  bank, 
Screamed  loud  and  sadly  e'er  he  sank. 

Then  Rover,  plunging  from  the  shore, 
Back  to  the  land  his  master  bore, 
Wet,  but  not  hurt,  —  the  little  boy 
Now  cried,  while  Rover  barked  forth  joy. 


THE     BUTTERFLY. 

THE  butterfly 's  an  idle  thing, 

Nor  honey  makes,  nor  yet  can  sing, 

Like  to  the  bee  and  bird ; 
Nor  does  it,  like  the  prudent  ant, 
Lay  up  the  grain  for  time  of  want, 

A  wise  and  cautious  hoard. 

My  youth  is  but  a  summer's  day, 
Then,  like  the  bee  and  ant,  I'll  lay 

A  store  of  learning  by  ; 
And  though  from  flower  to  flower  I  rove, 
My  stock  of  wisdom  I'll  improve, 

Nor  be  a  Butterfly. 


148 


HOME    SONGS    FOR 


MY    FATHER'S    HOUSE    UPON    THE     HILL. 

ITS  white  walls  glisten  through  the  trees, 
Its  windows  catch  the  sunset's  glow, 

Its  rising  smoke  the  traveller  sees 
From  the  broad  river's  banks  below. 


There  's  peace  around  it  day  and  night, 
And  love  that  makes  a  summer  still ; 

Through  all  the  year  keeps  warm  and  bright 
My  father's  house  upon  the  hill. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  149 

Iii  pinching  times  the  poor  come  there 
From  many  a  hut  and  hamlet  round  ; 

For  ready  help  and  kindly  cheer, 
Within  its  doors  are  always  found. 

Our  land  has  halls  where  plenty  flows, 
Has  lords  and  squires,  with  wealth  at  will ; 

But  best  of  all  the  poor  man  knows 
My  father's  house  upon  the  hill. 

In  week-day  work,  and  Sabbath  rest, 
The  passing  seasons  o'er  it  glide, 

"With  many  a  game,  and  many  a  guest, 
At  harvest-home,  and  Christmas  tide. 

Flowers  grow  without,  and  smiles  within, 
The  hearth  is  never  sad  or  chill ; 

Lord,  keep  from  grief  and  save  from  sin, 
My  father's  house  upon  the  hill. 


THE     LITTLE    BEGGAR    GIRL. 

THERE  's  a  poor  beggar  going  by, 

1  see  her  looking  in  : 
She  's  just  about  as  big  as  I, 

Only  so  very  thin. 


150  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

She  has  no  shoes  upon  her  feet, 

She  is  so  very  poor : 
And  hardly  any  thing  to  eat ; 

I  pity  her,  I  'm  sure. 

But  I  have  got  nice  clothes,  you  know, 
And  meat,  and  bread,  and  fire  ; 

And  dear  mamma,  that  loves  me  so, 
And  all  that  I  desire. 

If  I  were  forced  to  stroll  so  far, 
Oh  dear,  what  should  I  do  ? 

I  wish  she  had  a  kind  mamma, 
Just  such  a  one  as  you. 

Here,  little  girl,  come  back  again, 
And  hold  that  ragged  hat, 

And  I  will  put  a  penny  in,  — 
There,  buy  some  bread  with  that. 


CONTENTED    JOHN. 

ONE  honest  John   Tompkins,  a   hedger   and 

ditcher, 
Although  he  was  poor,  did  not  want  to  be 

richer ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  151 

For  all  such  vai:i  wishes  to  him  were  pre- 
vented 
By  a  fortunate  habit  of  being  contented. 

Though  cold  was  the  weather,  or  dear  was  the 
food, 

John  never  was  found  in  a  murmuring  mood  ; 

For  this  he  was  constantly  heard  to  declare, 

What  he  could  not  prevent  he  would  cheer- 
fully bear. 

For  why  should  I  grumble  and  murmur  ?  he 

said : 

If  I  cannot  get  meat,  I  can  surely  get  bread  ; 
And  though  fretting  may  make  my  calamities 

deeper, 
It   never   can   make   bread   and   cheese   any 

cheaper. 

If  John  was  afflicted  with  sickness  or  pain, 

He  wished  himself  better,  but  did  not  com- 
plain ; 

Nor  lie  down  to  fret,  in  despondence  and  sor- 
row, - 

But  said  —  that  he  hoped  to  be  better  to- 
morrow. 


152  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

If  any  one  wronged  him,  or  treated  him  ill, 
Why  John  was  good-natured  and  sociable  still ; 
For  he  said  —  that  revenging  the  injury  done, 
Would  be  making  two  rogues,  where  there 
need  be  but  one. 

And  thus  honest  John,  though  his  station  was 

humble, 
Passed  through  this  sad  world  without  even  a 

grumble ; 
And  I  wish  that  some  folks  who  are  greater 

and  richer, 
Would  copy  John  Tompkins,  the  hedger  and 

ditcher. 


QUESTIONS    AND    ANSWERS. 

WHO  showed  the  little  ant  the  way 

Her  narrow  hole  to  bore, 
And  spend  the  pleasant  summer  day, 

In  laying  up  her  store  ? 

The  sparrow  builds  her  clever  nest 
Of  wool,  and  hay,  and  moss ; 

Who  told  her  how  to  build  it  best, 
And  lay  the  twigs  across  ? 

Who  taught  the  busy  bee  to  fly 
Among  the  sweetest  flowers, 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  153 

And  lay  his  store  of  honey  by, 
To  eat  in  winter  hours  ! 

'T  was  God  who  showed  them  all  the  way, 

And  gave  their  little  skill, 
And  teaches  children,  if  they  pray, 

To  do  His  holy  will. 


OUR   LITTLE    ROSE. 


How  early  she  went  from  our  hearth  and  our 

play, 
The  youngest  of  all,  yet  the  first  called  away, 

And  oh,  but  the  sorrow  was  sore ! 
No  losses  nor  partings  till  then  had  we  seen ; 
No  discord,  no  changes  among  us  had  been ; 

No  death  in  our  dwelling  before. 


154.  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

At  times  we  arc  weary  and  sad  for  her  yet ; 
I  know  that  my  mother  will  never  forget. 

She  says  it  is  sinful  to  grieve  ; 
But  we  miss  the  blithe  tone,  and  we  miss  the 

bright  face, 
And  her  seat  by  the  fire  is  a  sorrowful  place, 

At  the  fall  of  the  dark  winter  eve. 

For  now  in  the  churchyard  our  hearts  have  a 

share ; 
Since  over  the  sleep  of  our  young  sister  there, 

The  grass  of  the  summer-tirne  grows. 
But  have  we  not  learned  that  a  better  home 

lies 
Above  the  green  grave,  and  above  the  blue 

skies, 
And  there  we  '11  meet  our  little  Rose. 


THE     TRUE    FRIEND. 

CHILDREN,  you  have  heard  the  story 
How  the  Lord  of  life  and  glory 
Left  his  Father's  house  on  high 
And  came  down  to  earth  to  die. 
To  a  friend  so  true  and  tender 
What  should  you  not  freely  render  ? 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  155 

When  his  suffering  here  was  ended, 

He  to  heaven  again  ascended, 

Now  he  reigns  in  glory  there, 

Yet  he  loves  to  hear  your  prayer. 
To  a  friend  so  true  and  tender 
Who  would  not  all  praises  render  ? 

This  good  Saviour  loveth  dearly 
Those  like  you  who  seek  him  early, 
There  is  none  too  young  to  sin, 
None  too  young  his  grace  to  win. 
To  this  friend  so  true  and  tender 
Will  you  not  your  heart  surrender  ? 

Choose  this  friend,  ye  poor  and  friendless, 

Trust  his  love  so  deep  and  endless, 

It  will  bless  you  all  your  days 

And  your  souls  to  glory  raise. 

Children,  to  this  friend  so  tender, 
Now,  0  now !  your  heart  surrender. 


CREATION. 


COME,  child,  look  upward  to  the  sky, 

Behold  the  sun  and  moon, 
The  expanse  of  stars  that  sparkle  high 

To  cheer  the  midnight  gloom. 


156  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

Come,  child,  and  now  behold  the  earth 

In  varied  beauty  stand  ; 
The  product  view  of  six  days'  birth, 

How  wondrous  and  how  grand  ! 

The  fields,  the  meadows,  and  the  plain, 

The  little  laughing  hills, 
The  waters  too,  the  mighty  main, 

The  rivers  and  the  rills. 

Come  then,  behold  them  all,  and  say, 
"How  came  these  things  to  be 

That  stand  before,  whichever  way 
I  turn  myself  to  see  ? " 

'T  was  God,  who  made  the  earth  and  sea, 

To  whom  the  angels  bow ; 
'T  was  God,  who  made  both  thee  and  me, 

The  God  who  sees  us  now. 


THE    PLAY    HOUR. 

THE  bell  has  rung  ;  with  merry  shout, 
Frdm  school  the  boys  are  rushing  out ; 
Now  books  are  closed,  with  what  delight 
They  grasp  the  marbles,  ball,  and  kite. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS  157 

Shout  on,  light  hearts  !  one  loves  to  hear 
This  burst  of  voices  fresh  and  clear. 
To  watch  a  troop  of  schoolboys  gay 
Enjoy  like  you  the  hour  of  play. 

How  short  it  seems !  yet  to  the  boy 
Its  shortness  brings  a  keener  joy, 
The  hours  of  work  that  go  before 
Endear  the  hour  of  leisure  more. 

Shout  on,  glad  hearts  !  in  boyhood  learn 
Your  pleasure  through  your  toil  to  earn  ; 
If  life  were  all  one  idle  day 
You  would  not  prize  the  hour  of  play. 

Improve  the  golden  hours  that  bring 
Such  stores  of  knowledge  on  the  wing, 
None  have  used  them  well  but  knew 
That  labor's  path  is  pleasure's  too. 

Choose  heavenly  wisdom  as  your  guide, 
And  peace  will  follow  at  her  side. 
A  purer  joy  bless  manhood's  way 
Than  brightened  boyhood's  hour  of  play. 


158 


HOME    SONGS    FOR 


THE    IMITATOR. 

AN  arrow  from  a  bow  just  shot, 
Flew  upwards  to  heaven's  canopy 
And  cried,  with  pompous  self-conceit, 
To  the  King  Eagle  scornfully :  — 
"  Look  here  —  I  can  as  high  as  thou, 
And,  towards  the  sun,  even  higher  sail ! " 
The  Eagle  smiled  and  said,  "  Oh,  fool, 
What  do  thy  borrowed  plumes  avail? 
By  others'  strength  thou  dost  ascend, 
But  by  thyself  dost  downward  tend." 

From  the  German. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  159 


THE    YOUNG    CARPENTER. 

WHENE'ER  his  father  would  permit, 
Young  Jemmy  to  the  workshop  hied ; 

And  there  he  quietly  would  sit, 

With  nails  and  hammer  by  his  side. 

Ah,  youthful  Jem,  —  the  time  will  come, 
When  thou  wilt  have  to  labor  hard  ; 

Then  whilst,  my  boy,  thou  art  at  home, 
May  nought  thy  aim  to  work  retard. 

When  first  his  father  let  him  saw,  — 
What  pleasure  sparkled  in  his  eye  ; 

And  in  the  fence  when  stopped  a  flaw,  . 
The  piece  held  fast, — though  nailed  awry. 

To  work  thus  kindly  led,  —  the  son 
His  father's  best  of  aid  became, - 

And  all  who  wished  a  job  well  done 
Were  sure  to  mention  Jemmy's  name. 


THREE    LITTLE    KITTENS. 

THREE  little  kittens  they  lost  their  mittens, 
And  they  began  to  cry, 


160  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

"  Oh !  mammy  dear, 
We  sadly  fear, 
Our  mittens  we  have  lost !  " 
"  What !  lost  your  mittens, 
You  naughty  kittens, 

Then  you  shall  hare  no  pie." 
Miew,  miew,  miew,  miew, 
Miew,  miew,  miew,  miew. 

The  three  little  kittens  they  found  their  mit- 
tens, 
And  they  began  to  cry, 

"  Oh  !  mammy  dear, 
See  here,  see  here, 
Our  mittens  we  have  found." 
"  What !  found  your  mittens, 
You  little  kitten's, 

Then  you  shall  have  some  pie." 
Purr,  purr,  purr,  purr, 
Purr,  purr,  purr,  purr. 

The  three  little  kittens  put  on  their  mittens, 
And  soon  ate  up  the  pie  ; 

"  Oh !  mammy  dear, 

We  greatly  fear, 
Our  mittens  we  have  soiled." 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  161 

-"  What !  soiled  your  mittens, 
You  naughty  kittens !  " 

Then  they  began  to  sigh, 

Miew,  miew,  miew,  miew, 
Miew,  miew,  miew,  miew. 

The   three  little  kittens   they   washed   their 

mittens, 
And  hung  them  up  to  dry ; 

"  Oh !  mammy  dear, 
Look  here,  look  here, 
Our  mittens  we  have  washed." 
"  What !  washed  your  mittens, 
You  darling  kittens ! 

But  I  smell  a  rat  close  by ! 

Hush !  hush  !  "     Miew,  miew, 
Miew,  miew,  miew,  m:ew. 


11 


162 


HOME    SONGS    FOR 


OUR    CO0SINS    FAR    OFF    IN    THE    WEST. 

'  T  is  long  since  we  bid  them  farewell, 

One  morning,  with  blessings  and  tears, 
Their  farm  at  the  foot  of  the  fell, 

A  stranger  has  tilled  it  for  years. 
Beyond  the  wide  sea  is  their  home ; 

Yet  still  we  remember  them  best, 
And  welcome  the  letters  that  come 

From  our  cousins  far  off  in  the  west. 


They  tell  us  of  forests  and  floods, 

With  names  never  heard  on  our  shore, 

Of  towns  growing  up,  where  the  woods 
Had  waved  but  the  summer  before  ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


Of  churches  and  homes  like  our  own, 
Where  families  labor  and  rest, 

No  strangers  to  us  have  they  grown,  , 
Our  cousins  far  off  in  the  west. 


THE     NINE     BROTHERS. 

NINE  brothers  there  are, 

All  known  near  and  far, 
And  to  you,  —  or  you  're  sadly  to  blame 

They  help  all  who  ask,  — 

To  them  easy  task,  — 
Now,  before  you  I'll  call  them  by  name. 

You  '11  know  them  at  once, 

Unless  you  're  a  dunce :  — 
See,  here  they  come,  —  1,  2,  3,  and 

Yes,  —  4,  5,  and  6, — 

This  order  we  fix,  — 
And  7,  8,  9,  now  you  see. 

Rare  deeds  do  these  nine, 

For  when  they  combine, 
By  ADDITION,  the  total  they  say  ; 

Then  again,  if  need  be, 

At  times  they  agree, 
To  SUBTRACT,  —  or  a  part  take  away. 


164  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

Oil,  funny  nine  boys  !  — 
When  they  're  tired  of  toys, 

By  MULTIPLICATION  they  make 

A  large  sum,  —  and  the  whole 
Of  the  lines  look  quite  droll, 

In  the  sloping  direction  they  take. 

Sometimes  when  play's  o'er, 

They  try  one  rule  more, 
DIVISION,  —  with  each  other's  aid; 

And  by  it  they  say 

How  many  fives  may 
Of  fifty  or  twenty  be  made* 

A  companion  is  theirs, 

Who  frequently  shares 
Their  wealth,  —  having  none  of  his  own; 

CIPHER  NOUGHT  (0)  is  his  name, 

And  by  it  he  came 
Because  he  is  nothing,  alone. 

Act  well, — for  these  chaps 

Show  people's  mishaps ; 
Of  their  power,  then,  let  us  beware ; 

For  should  we,  some  day, 

Owe  what  we  can't  pay, 
They'll  know  it,  —  so  let  us  take  care. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


THE     SCHOOL. 

A  WILLING  little  scholar 
Into  your  school  I  bring ; 

Oh,  make  him  welcome,  master, 
And  teach  him  every  thing. 

Teach  him  a  little  reading, 

A  little  writing  too  ; 
And  teach  him  how  his  little  sums 

Full  quickly  he  may  do. 


And  teach  him  to  ohey  you, 
And  to  be  just  and  true ; 

To  know  the  truth  from  falsehood, 
And  speak  it  boldly  too. 


166  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

And  teach  him,  0,  good  master ! 

Whatever  may  befall, 
To  love  his  God,  and  trust  him ; 

For  that  is  more  than  all. 


THE    SEVEN    BIRTHDAYS. 

had  seven  birthdays  in  the  year ; 
We  kept  them  all  with  merry  cheer, 
For  father,  mother,  and  sisters  three, 
For  brother  Alfred,  and  for  me. 

Some  came  round  with  the  winter's  snows, 
Some  with  midsummer,  and  the  rose, 
Some  at  the  time  when  brown  leaves  fall, 
But  there  were  games  and  gifts  for  all. 

Father's  was  kept  with  home-brewed  ale, 
Mother's  was  kept  with  talk  and  tale, 
Sisters'  were  kept  with  frills  and  frocks, 
Alfred's  and  mine  with  woodland  walks. 

'T  is  long  ago,  and  the  churchyard  yew 
Bends  o'er  father  and  mother  too ; 
Brother  and  sisters  all  have  grown 
To  troubles,  and  houses  of  their  own. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  167 

The  years  are  busy  —  the  world  is  wide  — 
We  have  scattered  far  from  the  old  fireside  ; 
Some  mind  the  ledger,  some  mind  the  plough, 
But  where  are  the  seven  brave  birthdays  now  ? 


DAME    DUCK'S    LECTURE. 

OLD  Mother  Duck  has  hatched  a  brood 
Of  ducklings,  small  and  callow : 

Their  little  wings  are  short,  their  down 
Is  mottled  gray  and  yellow. 

There  is  a  quiet  little  stream, 

That  runs  into  the  moat, 
Where  tall  green  sedges  spread  their  leaves, 

And  water-lilies  float. 

Close  by  the  margin  of  the  brook 

The  old  duck  made  her  nest, 
Of  straw,  and  leaves,  and  withered  grass, 

And  down  from  her  own  breast. 

And  there  she  sat  for  four  long  weeks, 

In  rainy  days  and  fine, 
Until  the  ducklings  all  came  out  — 

Four,  five,  six,  seven,  eight,  nine. 


168  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

One  peeped  out  from  beneath  her  wing, 

One  scrambled  on  her  back ; 
"  That 's  very  rude,"  said  old  Dame  Duck, 

"  Get  off !  quack,  quack,  quack,  quack  !  " 

"  '  T  is  close,"  said  Dame  Duck,  shoving  out 

The  egg-shells  with  her  bill, 
"  Besides,  it  never  suits  young  ducks 

To  keep  them  sitting  still." 

So,  rising  from  her  nest,  she  said, 

"  Now,  children,  look  at  me  : 
A  well-bred  duck  should  waddle  so, 

From  side  to  side  —  d'ye  see  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  little  ones,  and  then 

She  went  on  to  explain : 
"  A  well-bred  duck  turns  in  its  toes 

As  I  do  —  try  again." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  ducklings,  waddling  on  ; 

"  That 's  better,"  said  their  mother ; 
"  But  well-bred  ducks  walk  in  a  row, 

Straight  —  one  behind  another." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  little  ducks  again, 
All  waddling  in  a  row  : 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  169 

"  Now  to  the  pond,"  said  old  Dame  Duck  — 
Splash,  splash,  and  in  they  go. 

"  Let  me  swim  first,"  said  old  Dame  Duck  — 

"  To  tliis  side,  now  to  that ; 
There,  snap  at  those  great  brown-winged  flies, 

They  make  young  ducklings  fat. 

. 
"  Now  when  you  reach  the  poultry-yard, 

The  hen-wife,  Molly  Head, 
"Will  feed  you,  with  the  other  fowls, 

On  bran  and  rnashed-up  bread ; 

"  The  hens  will  peck  and  fight,  but  mind, 

I  hope  that  all  of  you 
Will  gobble  up  the  food  as  fast 

As  well-bred  ducks  should  do. 

"  You  'd  better  get  into  the  dish, 

Unless  it  is  too  small ; 
In  that  case,  I  should  use  my  foot, 

And  overturn  it  all." 

The  ducklings  did  as  they  were  bid, 

And  found  the  plan  so  good, 
That,  from  that  day,  the  other  fowls, 

Got  hardly  any  food. 


170  HOME    SONGS    FOR 


SOPHY'S    NEW    BABY    BROTHER. 

AH,  nurse,  you  really  are  too  bad, 
Not  before  now,  to  say  I  had 
A  baby  brother  come  to  live 
With  us,  and  so  much  pleasure  give. 

How  did  I  find  it  out  at  last, 
Let's  see,  —  but  up  I  've  come  so  fast, 
That  really,  now  I  do  not  know  ; 
But,  come,  the  baby  to  me  show. 

Oh !  what  a  darling,  darling  prize  ! 
With  little  cheeks,  and  nose,  and  eyes  ; 
I  say,  eyes,  though  they  're  shut,  —  but  you, 
Dear  nurse,  have  seen  them,  are  they  blue  ? 

One  kiss,  I  surely,  nurse,  may  take ; 
Ah,  see,  that  touch  has  made  him  wake  ; 
His  hands  are  raised  above  his  head, 
With  fingers   closed,  —  and   now   they  're 
spread. 

Just  look,  how  small  they  are  to  mine, 
And  with  what  pinky  white  they  shine ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  171 

To  work  they  never  must  be  taught, 
But  still  that  is  a  silly  thought. 

Hands  are  to  use,  —  and  these  may  be 
As  rough  as  Ben's,  who  goes  to  sea : 
Ah,  well,  I  love  them  now,  and  when 
Grown  hard  and  brown,  I'll  love  them  then. 

And  now  it  comes  into  my  head, 
That  I  have  heard  it  sometime  said, 
People  oft  take  unhappy  ways, 
From  what  they  see  in  childhood's  days. 

Then  now 's  the  time  for  me  to  prove 
That  I  my  baby  brother  love  ,  — 
So  pretty  is  he,  't  would  be  sad, 
Were  he  to  get  a  tamper  bad. 

So,  nurse,  if  ever  I  forget, 

And,  pettish  bad  example  set, 

These  words  from  you  pray  let  me  hear, 

"  Think  how  you  loved  the  baby,  dear." 

Your  finger 's  raised,  it  means,  I  know, 
That  it  is  time  for  me  to  go ; 
Before  the  baby  wakes  and  cries ; 
Another  time  I  '11  see  his  eyes. 


172  HOME    SONGS    FOR 


THE    WOODCUTTER. 

THE  "Woodcutter,  tottering  under  his  load, 
Comes  tired  from  the  wood  to  his  home  ; 

His  dog  trotting  by  him  beguiles  the  rough 

road, 
So  glad  with  his  master  to  roam. 

Though  hardship  and  toil  be  the  Woodcutter's 
lot, 

He  heeds  not  the  world  or  its  frown, 
But  sleeps  as  secure  with  his  dog  in  his  cot 

As  the  rich  on  their  pillows  of  down. 

He  rises  as  gay  as  the  lark  in  the  morn, 

His  little  dog  barking  so  glad  , 
And  though  that  his  raiment  be  homely  and 
torn, 

His  heart  is  not  heavy  or  sad. 

With  honest  exertion  from  morning  till  night 

He  patiently  toils  for  his  bread  ; 
His  wants  are  so  few  and  his  purse  is  so  light 

That  care  never  cumbers  his  head. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


173 


WHEN    MY    MOTHER    WAS    HERE. 


WE  have  not  grown  poor,  and  we  have  not 

grown  cross ; 
But  our  clays  have  a  chill,  and  our  memories 

a  loss ; 

The  fireside  looks  lonely,  the  table  looks  bare, 
Though  all  sit  around  with  enough  and  to 

spare. 


174  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

My  father  comes  home  at  the  fall  of  night , 
His  step  has  grown  weary,  his  hair  has  grown 

white ; 
He  smiles  on  us  yet,  but  his  smile  has  no 

cheer, 
It  never  was  so  when  my  mother  was  here. 

Now  no  one  looks  out  when  we  go  to  the 

school, 

Or  warns  us  to  keep  from  the  ice  on  the  pool ; 
And  no  one  comes  softly  to  see  how  we  sleep, 
When  the  night  hours  are  dark,  and  the  silence 

is  deep. 

Together  we  go  on  the  long  summer  walk, 
But  nobody  cheers  it  with  stories  and  talk ; 
We  gather  the  blossoms  from  bank  and  from 

bough, 
But  nobody  welcomes   us  home   with  them 

now. 

We  read  her  old  Bible  ;  we  have  not  forgot 
The  hymns  that  she  loved,  and  the  prayers 

that  she  taught ; 

Our  love  is  still  kindly,  our  home  is  still  dear, 
But  not  what  they  were  when  my  mother  was 

here. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  175 


WASHING    AND    DRESSING. 

AH,  why  will  my  dear  little  girl  be  so  cross, 
And  cry,  and  look  sulky,  and  pout  ? 

To  lose  her  sweet  smile  is  a  terrible  loss, 
I  can't  even  kiss  her  without. 

You  say,  you  don't  like  to  be  washed  and 

be  drest ; 

But  would  you  be  dirty  and  foul  ? 
Come,  drive  that  long  sob  from  your  dear  little 

breast, 
And  clear  your  sweet  face  from  its  scowl. 

If  the  water  is  cold,  and  the  comb  hurts  your 

head, 

And  the  soap  has  got  into  your  eye, 
Will  the  water  grow  warmer  for  all  that  you  've 

said, 
And  what  good  will  it  do  you  to  cry  ? 

It  is  not  to  tease  you,  and  hurt  you,  my  sweet, 

But  only  for  kindness  and  care, 
That  I  wash  you,  and  dress  you,  and  make 
you  look  neat, 

And  comb  out  your  tanglesome  hair. 


176  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

I  don't  mind  the  trouble,  if  you  would  not 

cry, 

But  pay  me  for  all  with  a  kiss. 
That's  right,  take  the  towel,  and  wipe  your 

wet  eye, 
I  thought  you  'd  be  good  after  this. 


PATIENT    PATTY. 

WHY,  little  baby,  —  again  and  again, 
Must  I  jog  you,  and  jog  you  in  vain  ? 

Really,  really  I  thought  you  asleep : 
Pussy-cat  sleeps,  little  baby,  without 
All  this  singing,  and  jogging,  and  rout, 

Rolled  up,  round-about-round,  in  a  heap. 
Sing  then,  ho,  —  once  again,  lull-a-bye, 
All,  there,  —  now  you  are  closing  your  eye, 

And  still  as  a  mouse  I  will  keep. 

Patient  Patty  it  was  singing  so, 

And  further  than  this,  you  must  know, 

She  was  patient  by  nature  and  name ; 
And  if  she  heard  any  one  huff 
A  baby,  —  she  said  "  't  was  enough 

To  make  it  bad  tempered,  the  same." 


LITTLE    CABLINGS, 


177 


AGAIST    IDLENESS    AND    MISCHIEF. 

How  doth  the  little  busy  Bee 
Improve  each  shining  hour, 

And  gather  honey  all  the  day 
From  every  opening  flower ! 

How  skilfully  she  builds  her  cell ! 

How  neat  she  spreads  her  wax  ! 
And  labors  hard  to  store  it  well 

"With  the  sweet  food  she  makes. 

In  works  of  labor  or  of  skill, 
I  would  be  busy  too ; 
12 


178  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

For  Satan  finds  some  mischief  still 
For  idle  hands  to  do. 

In  books,  or  works,  or  healthful  play, 
Let  my  first  years  be  past ; 

That  I  may  give  for  every  day 
Some  good  account  at  last. 


THE    FOX    AND    GEESE. 

SOME  Geese  on  a  common  were  feeding, 
And  naught  but  their  appetite  heeding  ; 
The  fresh  breeze  made  them  hungry  no  doubt. 

Sly  Reynard  the  Fox  saw  the  party, 

He,  also,  could  eat  very  hearty  ; 

But  for  no  meal  of  grass  he  looked  out. 

So  quick  from  the  hedge  he  came  bouncing, 
And  upon  a  young  gosling  pouncing 
By  the  neck,  bore  it  nimbly  away. 

Then  a  Goose  when  the  mischief  was  over, 
Said,  "  Friends,  when  you  feed  upon  clover, 
See  no  danger  is  near  you,  I  pray." 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  179 


THE    CHATTERBOX. 


FROM  morning  till  night  it  was  Lucy's  delight 
To  chatter  and  talk  without  stopping ; 

There  was  not  a  day  but  she  rattled  away, 
Like  water  forever  a  dropping ! 

As  soon  as  she  rose,  while  she  put  on  her 
clothes 

'T  was  vain  to  endeavor  to  still  her  ; 
Nor  once  did  she  lack  to  continue  her  clack, 

Till  again  she  lay  down  on  her  pillow. 

You  '11  think  now,  perhaps,  there  would  have 

been  gaps, 

If  she  had  n't  been  wonderful  clever ; 
That  her  sense  was  so  great,  and  so  witty  her 

pate, 
That  it  would  be  forthcoming  forever. 

But  that's  quite   absurd,  for  have  you  not 

heard, 

Much  tongue  and  few  brains  are  connected, 
That  they  are  supposed  to  think  least  who  talk 

most, 
And  their  wisdom  is  always  suspected  ?  • 


180  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

While  Lucy  was  young,  had  she  bridled  her 

tongue 

With  a  little  good  sense  and  exertion, 
Who  knows  hut  she  might  now  have  been  our 

delight, 
Instead  of  our  jest  and  aversion  ? 


AWAY!    AWAY! 

AWAY  !  away !  thou  little  steed, 
Dashing  o'er  the  road  so  stony, 

Fleeter  than  the  zephyr's  speed, — 
Bound  away,  thou  gallant  pony  ! 

Light 's  the  burden  on  thy  back, 
Fairer  load  thou  could' st  not  carry ; 

Curb  nor  rein  thy  speed  will  slack, 
Bit  nor  bridle  bid  thee  tarry. 

Surely  both  have  lost  their  wits ! 

Pretty  horse  and  pretty  rider ; 
Yet  with  such  a  grace  she  sits, 

Nothing  evil  can  betide  her. 

Faultless  both  of  wind  and  limb, 
Sure  of  foot,  and  always  ready, 

Where  's  the  horse  so  proud  as  him, 
When  he  bears  his  handsome  lady ! 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  181 


THE    ROBBER    KITTEN. 

A  KITTEN  onco  to  its  mother  said, 

"  I  '11  never  more  be  good, 
But  I  '11  go  and  be  a  robber  fierce, 

And  live  in  a  dreary  wood ; 

Wood,  wood,  wood, 

And  live  in  a  dreary  wood ! " 

So  off  it  went  to  the  dreary  wood, 

And  there  it  met  a  cock, 
And  blew  its  head,  with  a  pistol,  off, 

Which  gave  it  an  awful  shock  I 
Shock,  shock,  shock, 

Which  gave  it  an  awful  shock ! 

Soon  after  that  it  met  a  cat : 

"  Now,  give  to  me  your  purse, 
Or  I  '11  shoot  you  through,  and  stab  you  too, 

And  kill  you,  which  is  worse ! 

Worse,  worse,  worse, 

And  kill  you,  which  is  worse  !  " 

It  climbed  a  tree  to  rob  a  nest 
Of  young  and  tender  owls ; 


182  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

But  the  branch  broke  off  and  the  kitten  fell, 
With  six  tremendous  howls ! 

Howls,  howls,  howls, 
With  six  tremendous  howls  ! 

One  day  it  met  a  Robber  Dog, 

And  they  sat  down  to  drink  ; 
The  dog  did  joke,  and  laugh,  and  sing, 

Which  made  the  kitten  wink  ! 
Wink,  wink,  wink, 

Which  made  the  kitten  wink ! 

At  last  they  quarrelled  ;  then  they  fought, 

Beneath  the  greenwood  tree, 
Till  puss  was  felled  with  an  awful  club, 

Most  terrible  to  see  ! 

See,  see,  see, 

Most  terrible  to  see ! 

When  puss  got  up,  its  eye  was  shut, 
And  swelled,  and  black,  and  blue ; 

Moreover,  all  its  bones  were  sore, 
So  it  began  to  mew  ! 

Mew,  mew,  mew, 
So  it  began  to  mew  ! 

Then  up  it  rose,  and  scratched  its  nose, 
And  went  home  very  sad ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  183 

"  Oh,  mother  dear,  behold  me  here, 
I  '11  never  more  be  bad, 

Bad,  bad,  bad, 
I  '11  never  more  be  bad !  " 


A   PLEASANT    SAIL. 

THE  boat  is  trimmed  with  sail  and  oar, 
And  all  prepared  to  leave  the  shore  ; 
When  off  we  '11  go  with  wind  and  tide, 
Over  the  sunny  waves  to  glide. 

By  headland  bold  and  winding  bay, 
That  look  so  lovely  far  away, 
How  pleasantly  we  '11  sail  along, 
And  listen  to  the  boatman's  song. 

When  waves  are  rough  and  winds  are  high, 
And  tempests  rage  o'er  sea  and  sky, 
I  would  not  like  the  stormy  sea,  — 
Then  home  and  fireside  joys  for  me. 

Though  tempests  rage  and  billows  roar, 
God  reigns  supreme  o'er  sea  and  shore, 
And  shields  by  his  almighty  hand, 
From  dangers  both  by  sea  and  land. 


184  HOME    SONGS    FOR 


SULKING. 


WHY  is  Mary  standing  there, 
Leaning  down  upon  a  chair, 
With  such  an  angry  lip  and  brow  ? 
I  wonder  what 's  the  matter  now. 

Come  here,  my  dear,  and  tell  me  true, 
Is  it  because  I  spoke  to  you 
About  the  work  you  've  done  so  slow, 
That  you  are  standing  fretting  so  ? 

Why,  then,  indeed,  I  'm  grieved  to  see 
That  you  can  so  ill-tempered  be. 
You  make  your  fault  a  great  deal  worse, 
By  being  angry  and  perverse. 

Oh,  how  much  better  't  would  appear 
To  see  you  shed  a  humble  tear, 
And  then  to  hear  you  meekly  say, 
"I'll  not  do  so  another  day." 

For  you  to  stand  and  look  so  cross, 
(Which  makes  your  fault  so  much  the  worse) 
Is  far  more  naughty,  dear,  you  know, 
Than  having  done  your  work  too  slow  ! 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  185 


THE    SLY    OLD    FOX. 

AWAY  to  your  den,  you  sly  old  fox, 
Your  sins  have  found  you  out ; 
The  farmer  will  leave  his  geese  no  more 
While  you  are  prowling  about. 

So  for  a  dinner  you  must  search 
Within  the  forest  dark, 
Far  from  the  farmer's  deadly  gun 
And  the  watch-dog's  fearful  bark. 

Your  race  is  run  if  you  he  finds 
Within  his  gates  once  more  ; 
He  'd  put  a  bullet  through  your  head 
And  nail  it  to  the  door. 

For  of  his  geese  so  fat  and  plump, 
Full  sixteen  he  has  lost, 


186  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

And  if  lie  lays  his  hands  on  you 
Yon  '11  have  to  pay  the  cost. 

Now  how  much  better,  sly  old  fox, 
It  would  have  been  for  you, 
If  you  had  never  learned  to  steal 
His  geese  and  chickens  too. 

By  honest  means  if  you  had  earned 
Your  food  when  you  began, 
You  never  would  have  cause  to  dread 
The  farmer  and  his  gun. 


THE    LARK. 

FROM  his  humble  grassy  bed, 

See  the  warbling  lark  arise  ! 
By  his  grateful  wishes  led 

Through  those  regions  of  the  skies. 

Songs  of  thanks  and  praise  he  pours, 

Harmonizing  airy  space ; 
Sings,  and  mounts,  and  higher  soars, 

Towards  the  throne  of  heavenly  grace. 

Small  his  gifts  compared  to  mine, 
Poor  my  thanks  with  his  compared  ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  187 

I  Ve  a  soul  almost  divine  ; 

Angels'  blessings  with  me  shared. 

Wake,  my  soul !  to  praise  aspire ; 

Reason,  every  sense,  accord ; 
Join  in  pure  seraphic  fire  ; 

Love,  and  thank,  and  praise  the  Lord ! 


THE    PALACE    AND     COTTAGE. 

HIGH  on  a  mountain's  haughty  steep, 
Lord  Hubert's  palace  stood  ; 

Before  it  rolled  a  river  deep, 
Behind  it  waved  a  wood. 

Low  in  an  unfrequented  vale 

A  peasant  built  his  cell, 
Sweet  flowers  perfumed  the  cooling  gale, 

And  graced  his  garden  well. 

Lmid  riot  through  Lord  Hubert's  hall 

In  noisy  clamors  rang ; 
He  scarcely  closed  his  eyes  at  all, 

Till  breaking  day  began. 


188  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

In  scenes  of  quiet  and  repose 
Young  William's  life  was  spent ; 

With  morning's  early  beam  he  rose, 
And  whistled  as  he  went. 

On  sauces  rich,  and  viands  fine, 

Lord  Hubert  daily  fed  ; 
His  goblet  filled  with  sparkling  wine, 

His  board  with  dainties  spread. 

Warm  from  the  sickle  or  the  plough, 

His  heart  as  light  as  air, 
His  garden  ground,  and  dappled  cow, 

Supplied  young  William's  fare. 

On  beds  of  down  beset  with  gold, 
With  satin  curtains  drawn, 

His  feverish  limbs  Lord  Hubert  rolled, 
From  midnight's  gloom  to  morn. 

Stretched  on  a  hard  and  flocky  bed, 

The  cheerful  rustic  lay  ; 
And  sweetest  slumbers  lulled  his  head 

From  eve  to  breaking  day. 

Fever,  and  gout,  and  aches,  and  pains, 
Destroyed  Lord  Hubert's  rest ; 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 

Disorder  burnt  in  all  his  veins, 
And  sickened  in  his  breast. 

A  stranger  to  the  ills  of  "wealth, 

Behind  his  rugged  plough, 
The  cheek  of  William  glowed  with  health 

And  cheerful  was  his  brow. 

No  gentle  friend,  to  soothe  his  pain, 

Sat  near  Lord  Hubert's  bed  ; 
His  friends  and  servants,  light  and  vain, 

From  scenes  of  sorrow  fled. 

But  when  on  "William's  honest  head 

Time  scattered  silver  hairs, 
His  wife  and  children,  round  his  bed, 

Partook  and  shared  his  cares. 

The  solemn  hearse,  the  waving  plume, 

A  train  of  mourners  grim, 
Carried  Lord  Hubert  to  the  tomb, 

But  no  one  cared  for  him. 

No  weeping  eye,  no  gentle  breast,. 

Lamented  his  decay, 
Nor  round  his  costly  coffin  pressed 

To  gaze  upon  his  clay. 


190  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

But  when  upon  his  dying  bed 

Old  William  came  to  lie  ; 
"When  clammy  sweats  had  chilled  his  head, 

And  death  had  dimmed  his  eye  ; 

Sweet  tears,  by  fond  affection  dropped, 

From  many  an  eyelid  fell, 
And  many  a  lip,  by  anguish  stopped 

Half  spoke  the  sad  farewell. 

No  marble  pile,  nor  costly  tomb, 
Describes  where  William  sleeps ; 

But  there  wild  thyme  and  cowslips  bloom, 
And  there  affection  weeps. 


THE     GIPSY     CAMP. 

THE  gipsy  leads  a  merry  life, 
When  summer  days  are  long, 

With  all  his  swarthy  family, 
The  leafy  woods  among. 

No  rent  or  taxes  does  he  pay, 
His  wants  are  few  and  small ; 

And  round  his  fireside,  blazing  free, 
There 's  room  enough  for  all. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  191 

Kind  Nature  for  his  shoeless  feet 

A  carpet  green  hath  spread  ; 
With  sunny  skies  and  curtained  clouds, 

For  ceiling  o'er  his  head. 

"When  stormy  winter  strips  the  trees, 

The  gipsy  lodges  then 
In  barn,  or  cave,  or  ruined  tower 

Till  summer  comes  again. 


THE    SKYLARK. 

HARK  !  the  Skylark's  matin  song 
Of  his  love  and  joy  is  telling, 

"With  a  pipe  so  clear  and  strong, 
All  the  feathered  choir  excelling. 

In  her  nest  his  pretty  mate, 

While  he  sings  and  soars  above  her, 
With  a  throbbing  breast  elate, 

Listens  to  her  tuneful  lover. 

Hark !  he  bids  the  sluggard  spring 
From  a  bed  of  sloth  and  dreaming, 

And  with  grateful  rapture  sing, 
While  the  rosy  morn  is  beaming. 


192  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

Bird  of  love  and  bird  of  joy, 
Thou  art  thus  a  moral  teacher, 

From  thy  pulpit  in  the  sky,  — 
Temple  of  the  tuneful  preacher. 


THE    MASTER'S    EYE. 

SOME  little  boys  I  've  seen  in  school 

To  learn  so  hard  do  try, 
And  bend  so  steady  o'er  their  books 

Beneath  the  Master's  eye. 

But  when  't  is  turned  the  other  way, 
To  learn  they  're  not  inclined  ; 

But  play  and  laugh  among  themselves, 
Nor  Master's  rules  do  mind. 

They  little  think  how  wrong  it  is 
Their  Teacher  thus  to  cheat, 

Whose  eye  so  kindly  on  them  beams 
"When  in  the  school  they  meet. 

Be  honest  with  your  teacher  kind, 

To  learn  your  lessons  try  ; 
When  you  're  unwatched  as  well  as  when 

Beneath  the  Master's  eye. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  193 


MY    MOTHER. 

OF  all  the  pretty  words  I  .know, 

Or  ever  yet  have  heard, 
That  sweetest  from  the  lips  can  flow, 

"  MY  MOTHER  "  is  the  word. 

Its  gentle  music  most  endears 

From  childhood's  guileless  tongue, 

13ut  still  its  sound  in  riper  ye*ars 
Can  make  the  heart  feel  young ; 

Can  make  it  dream  of  childhood  blest, 
And  tears  of  gladness  weep, 

While  pillowed  on  her  gentle  breast, 
And  softly  sung  to  sleep. 

When  pain  or  sickness  bowed  the  head, 
And  claimed  her  tender  care, 
13 


194  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

A  guardian  angel  o'er  my  bed 
My  Mother  i-till  was  there. 

'T  was  she  who  taught  my  heart  to  pray, 

And  trust  in  God  above, 
Through  faitli  in  the  enduring  stay 

Of  Christ's  Redeeming  love. 


THE     TEN    COMMANDMENTS. 

To  the  one  God  who  dwells  above, 

Must  I  my  worship  give, 
No  other  shall  I  fear  or  love, 

But  he  who  bade  me  live. 

His  next  command  I  must  obey, 

And  to  no  Idol  kneel ; 
No  image  either  gold  or  clay, 

That  does  the  earth  reveal. 

God's  sacred  name  must  I  pronounce 
With  reverence  and  with  awe  : 

A  trifling  tongue  I  will  renounce, 
For  fear  I  break  his  law. 

And  I  must  keep  the  Sabbath-day, 
Nor  dare  it  to  profane, 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  195 

By  useless  work  or  foolish  play 
To  spend  my  time  in  vain. 

To  both  my  parents  good  and  kind, 

All  honor  must  I  show, 
Their  just  commands  to  bear  in  mind, 

And  all  their  wishes  know. 

Foul  murder  next  God  doth  forbid, 

By  this  his  sacred  law  ; 
Keep  me,  0  Lord,  from  thought  or  deed, 

My  soul  doth  much  abhor. 

From  unclean  words  to  keep  our  lips, 

His  children  he  does  tell, 
To  vice  if  I  would  turn  my  steps, 

I  am  forbid  as  well. 

By  thy  command  I  must  not  steal, 

Not  even  a  little  pin  ; 
Thy  words  so  wise  they  do  reveal 

It  is  a  grievous  sin. 

I  must  not  lie,  —  it  would  be  base 

To  tell  that  which  is  wrong ; 
With  truthful  lips  and  honest  face, 

I  '11  wend  my  way  along. 


196  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

To  covet  not  my  neighbor's  store, 
His  tenth  command  is  given  ; 

Let  me  his  precepts  study  o'er, 
To  fit  myself  for  heaven. 


WE    ARE     SEVEN. 


A  SIMPLE  child, 


That  lightly  draws  its  breath, 
And  feels  its  life  in  every  limb, 
What  should  it  know  of  death  ? 

I  met  a  little  cottage  girl, 

She  was  eight  years  old,  she  said ; 
Her  hair  was  thick,  with  many  a  curl, 

That  clustered  round  her  head. 

She  had  a  rustic  woodland  air, 

And  she  was  wildly  clad  ; 
Her  eyes  were  fair,  and  very  fair ; 

Her  beauty  made  me  glad. 

"  Sisters  and  brothers,  little  maid, 

How  many  may  you  be  ?  " 
"  How  many  ?     Seven  in  all,"  she  said, 

And  wondrous  looked  at  me. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  197 

"  And  where  are  they  ?  I  pray  you  tell." 
She  answered,  "  Seven  are  we, 

And  two  of  us  at  Conway  dwell, 
And  two  are  gone  to  sea. 

"  Two  of  us  in  the  churchyard  lie, 

My  sister  and  my  brother, 
And  in  the  churchyard  cottage,  I 

Dwell  near  them  with  my  mother." 

"  You  say  that  two  at  Conway  dwell, 

And  two  are  gone  to  sea ; 
Yet  you  are  seven  !    I  pray  you  tell, 

Sweet  maid,  how  this  may  be  ?  " 

Then  did  the  little  maid  reply, 

"  Seven  boys  and  girls  are  we, 
Two  of  us  in  the  churchyard  lie, 

Beneath  the  churchyard  tree." 

"  You  run  about,  my  little  maid, 

Your  limbs  they  are  alive  ; 
If  two  are  in  the  churchyard  laid, 

Then  you  are  only  five  ? " 

"  Their  graves  are  green,  they  may  be  seen," 

The  little  maid  replied  ; 
"  Twelve  steps  or  more  from  mother's  door, 

And  they  are  side  by  side  ! 


198  HOME    SONGS    FOB 

"  My  stockings  there  I  often  knit, 

My  kerchief  there  I  hem  ; 
And  there  upon  the  ground  I  sit, 

And  sing  a  song  to  them. 

"  And  often,  after  sunset,  sir, 

"NVhen  it  is  light  and  fair, 
I  take  my  little  porringer, 

And  eat  my  supper  there. 

"  The  first  that  died  was  sister  Jane, 

In  hed  she  moaning  lay ; 
Till  God  released  her  from  her  pain, 

And  then  she  went  away. 

"  So  in  the  churchyard  she  was  laid, 

And  when  the  grass  was  dry, 
Together  round  her  grave  we  played, 

My  brother  John  and  I. 

"  And  when  the  ground  was  white  with  snow, 

And  I  could  run  and  slide, 
My  brother  John  was  forced  to  go, 

And  he  lies  by  her  side." 

"  How  many  are  you,  then,"  said  I, 
"  If  they  two  are  in  heaven  ?  " 

Quick  was  the  little  maid's  reply  — 
"  Oh,  master,  we  are  seven !  " 


LITTLE    DARLINGS.  199 

"  But  they  are  dead  —  these  two  are  dead, 

Their  spirits  are  in  heaven  !  " 
'T  was  throwing  words  away,  for  still 

The  little  maid  would  hava  her  will 
And  said,  nay  !  we  are  seven. 


OVER    THE    BROOK. 

THE  brook  runs  swift,  my  little  Miss, 
You  ne'er  could  get  across  ; 

For  stockings  nice  and  tiny  shoes 
Would  be  a  total  loss. 


200  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

But  in  your  brother's  sturdy  arms 
No  danger  you  need  fear, 

He  '11  safely  cross  to  yonder  bank 
With  little  sister  dear. 

For  well  he  loves  his  sister  kind, 
And  tries  to  please  her  too  ; 

Would  all  the  brothers  that  I  know, 
Were  anxious  so  to  do. 

But  some  I  know  so  rude  are  they, 
Their  sisters  would  not  dare 

To  cross  a  brook  within  their  arms, 
Lest  they  should  leave  them  there. 

Brothers  !  be  to  your  sisters  kind, 
And  help  them  all  you  can ; 

For  they  will  all  your  pains  requite, 
Before  you  are  a  man. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS. 


201 


THE    SCOTCH    LADDIE. 

COLD  blows  the  north  wind  o'er  the  mountain 

so  bare, 

Poor  Sawny  benighted  is  travelling  there  ; 
His  plaid-cloak  around  him  he  carefully  binds, 
And  holds  on  his  bonnet,  that 's  blown  by  the 

winds. 

Long  time  has  he  wandered  his  desolate  way, 
That  wound  him  along  by  the  banks  of  the 
Tay; 


202  HOME    SONGS    FOR 

Now  o'er  this  cold  mountain  poor  Sawny  must 

roam, 
Before  he  arrives  at  his  dear  little  home. 

Barefooted  he  follows  the  path  he  must  go, 
The  print  of  his  footsteps  he  leaves  in  the  snow  : 
And  while  the  white  sleet  patters  cold  in  his  face, 
He  thinks  of  his  home,  and  he  quickens  his  pace. 

But  see,  from  afar  he  discovers  a  light, 

That  cheerfully  gleams  on  the   darkness   of 

night, 

And  0  what  delights  in  his  bosom  arise  ! 
He  knows  't  is  his  dear  little  home  that  he  spies. 

And  now,  when  arrived  at  his  father's  own 
door, 

His  fears,  his  fatigues,  his  dangers  are  o'er ; 

His  brothers  and  sisters  press  round  with  de- 
light, 

And  welcome  him  in  from  the  storms  of  the 
night. 

For  in  vain  from  the  north  the  keen  winter 

winds  blow ; 

In  vain  are  the  mountain  tops  covered  with  snow ; 
The  snow  of  his  country  can  never  control 
The  affection  that  glows  in  the  highlandcr's  soul. 


LITTLE    DARLINGS, 


203 


THE    WATER-CRESS     SELLER. 

Now  all  aloud  the  wind  and  rain 
Beat  sharp  upon  the  window-pane, 

And  though  't  is  hardly  light, 
I  hear  that  little  girl  go  by, 
Who  does  "  fine  water-cresses  "  cry, 

Morning,  and  noon,  and  night. 

I  saw  her  pass  by  yesterday, 
The  snow  upon  the  pavement  lay, 
Her  hair  was  white  with  sleet ; 


HOME    SONGS. 

She  shook  with  cold,  as  she  did  cry, 
"  Fine  water-cresses,  come  and  buy," 
And  naked  were  her  feet. 

And  with  one  hand,  so  red  and  cold, 
She  did  her  tattered  bonnet  hold, 

The  other  held  her  shawl, 
AVlrich  was  too  thin  to  keep  her  warm, 
But  naked  bft  each  little  arm, 

It  was  so  very  small. 

Her  water-cresses  froze  together, 

Yet  she,  through  the  cold,  bitter  weather 

Went  on  from  street  to  street ; 
And  thus  she  goes  out  every  day, 
For  she  can  earn  no  other  way 

The  bread  which  she  doth  eat. 


CONTENTS. 


PACK 

A  BETTER  SOX 34 

ABOUT  LEARNING  TO  READ    ....  138 

A  COBWEB  MADE  TO  ORDER       ....  97 

AGAINST   IDLENESS  AND  MISCHIEF           .        .  177 

AGAINST  QUARRELLING  AND  FIGHTING     .        .  41 

A  HUMBLB  MIND 119 

AIR  BUBBLE,   THE          .         .         .         .         .         .60 

A  PLEASANT  SAIL 183 

ARTHUR'S  ROCKING-HORSE 109 

AUTUMN 37 

AWAY!   AWAY!    • 180 

BABY  AND  MAMMA  ......  73 

BABY'S  DANCK,  THK    .         •        .        .         .        .57 

BEFORE   MY  BROTHER  WKNT  TO  SEA      .         .  141 

BETTER  LAND,  THE 130 

BIBLE  STORY,  THE  ......  93 

BIRD'S  NEST,  THE 39 

BREAKFAST  AND  PUSS 114 

BUTTERFLY,  THE         .        .        .        .        .        .147 

CHATTERBOX,  THE 179 

CHERRY-TREE,  THE 71 

CHILD  AND  THE  LAMB,  THE   .        .        .        .  23 

CHILD'S   QUESTIONS,  THE 51 

CHORUS   OF  FROGS,  THE  .         .         .         .         .  14 

CHRIST'S  HUMILITY 88 

CLOCKING   HEN,  THE 20 

COME  AND  PLAY 120 

CONTENTED  JOHN 150 

COW,    THE        .            .            .    • 42 

CREATION 155 

(205) 


206  CONTENTS. 

CROCODILE,  THK 113 

CUCKOO,  THE 33 

CUT,  THE 49 

DAME  DUCK'S  LECTURE 167 

DING  !  DONG  !  BELL  ! 35 

KARLY  RISING 129 

EVENING  PRAYER,  THE 68 

FAIRY  RING,  THE 108 

FAITHFUL  DOG,  THE 146 

FIRST  WALK,  THE 28 

FISHING  BOAT,  THE 54 

FOR  THE  LORD'S  DAY  MORNING    .        .        .  132 

FOX  AND  GKESE,  THE 178 

FROG  WHO  WOULD  A  WOOING  GO,  THK         .  134 

FROLICSOME  KITTEN,  THK 124 

GATHERING  WILD  FLOWERS    ....  30 

GERTRUDE  AND  HER  ALPHABET         ...  64 

GETTING  UP 47 

GOD  KEEPS  ME 89 

GOD  ORDERS  ALL  THINGS         ....  92 

GIPSEY  CAMP,  THE 190 

GOLDEN  RULE,  THE  ......  16 

GOING  TO  BED  AT  NIGHT 118 

GOING  TO  BED 21 

GOING  TO  BED 69 

GOOD-NIGHT 100 

GOOD  SHEPHERD,  THE          .         .         .         .         .115 

GREAT  BROWN  OWL,  THE        .         .         .         .  61 

GREEDY  RICHARD 121 

GROWLER  , 44 

HAND-POST,    THE 116 

HOOP,    THE 125 

HONESTY 22 

HUSH,   MY   BABE 27 

IDLE    MARY 123 

IMITATOR,    THE 158 

I    USED    TO    THINK 43 

KIND    MAMMA,    THE 133 

LADY   BIRD,    THK 99 

LARK,    THE 186 

LEARNING    TO    GO    ALONE                   .'»»  42 


CONTENTS.  207 

LITTLE  BABY,  THK 52 

LITTLE  BEGGAR  GIRL,  THK         ....  149 

LITTLE  BOY  AND  THE  STARS.  THE          .         .  11 

LITTLE  CHILD,  THE 76 

LITTLE  COWARD,  THE      .        .        .        .        .  48 

LITTLE  RAIN-DROPS 70 

LITTLE  THINGS 58 

LOOK  UP,  MY  CHILD 46 

MASTER'S  EYE,  THE 192 

MISTER  FOX 139 

MORNING  PRAYER 8 

MOUSE  WITH  A  BELL,  THE         .        .        .        .  143 

MY  BOAT  ON  THE  LAKE  .        .        .  •      .        .  101 

MY  FATHER'S  HOUSE  UPON  THE  HILL        .        .  148 

MY  LITTLE  SISTER  ......  13 

MY  MOTHER 193 

MY  SISTER 85 

NAUGHTY  SISTER,  THE        .        .        .        .        .59 

NINE  BROTHERS,  THE      .....  163 

OLD  CLOCK,  THE 62 

OUR  COUSINS  FAR  OFF  IN  THE  WEST    .         .  162 

OUR  LITTLE  ROSE 153 

OUR  GARDEN 95 

OVER  THE  BROOK 199 

PALACE  AND  COTTAGE,  THE  ....  187 

PATIENT  PATTY  .         .         .         .         .         .176 

PEASANT'S  EVENING  SONG        ....  18 

PET  GOAT,  THE    .        .        ...        .        ,55 

PET  LAMB,  THE 103 

PLAY  HOUR,  THE 156 

POLITENESS               .        .        .        .        .        .  63 

PONY  RIDE,  THE 10 

PRAISE  FOR  MERCIES,  ETC 90 

PRECOCIOUS  PIGGY 126 

PUSSY  CAT 82 

QUESTIONS  AND  ANSWERS 152 

RAINBOW,  THE 128 

RECONCILEMENT,  THE 15 

RICH  AND  POOR '        .  16 

RIDE  AWAY,  RIDE 40 

RISING    IN    THE    MORNING  112 


208  CONTENTS. 

ROBBER  KITTEN,  THE 181 

ROBIN  REDBREAST 9 

ROBINS'  WELCOME 80 

ROOKS,  THE 25 

SCHOOL,  THE 165 

SCOTCH  LADDIE,  THE 201 

SKY-LARK,  THE 191 

SISTER  MARY  AND  BROTHER  JOHN    .        .        .142 

SEVEN  BIRTHDAYS,  THE 106 

SLEEPY  HARRY .67 

SLUGGARD,  THE         ......  56 

SLY  OLD  FOX,  THE 185 

SOLDIER,  THE    .                  74 

SOPHY'S  NEW  BABY  BROTHER     .         .         .         .170 

SPARROW  AT  THE  WINDOW,  THE    .         .         .  77 

SULKING 184 

SUMMER      ........  29 

SUN,    THE         .            .......  38 

TEACH  ME  TO  PRAY 50 

TEN  COMMANDMENTS,  THE 194 

THREE  LITTLE  EGGS 110 

THREE  LITTLE  KITTENS 159 

TRUE  FRI1..ND,  THE 154 

TURTLE-DO  VI/S  NEST,  THE 83 

TWINKLE,  TWINKLE,  LITTLE  STAR  ...  32 

TWO  ROBIN  RKDBREASTS  92 

VAIN  LITTLE  GIRL,  THE 72 

WARNING,  THE 49 

WASHING  AND  DRESSING         .        .        .        .  175 

WATER  CRESS  SELLER,  THE        ....  203 

WATER-MILL,  THE 86 

WAVES  OF  THE  SEA-SHORE          .         .         .         .,137 

WAY  TO  BE  HAPPY 136 

WK  ARE  SEVEN 196 

WHEN  MY  MOTHER  WAS  HERE       .        .        .  173 

WILLIE'S  BIRTHDAY 7 

WOODCUTTER,  THE 172 

YOUNG  AND  OLD,  THE 36 

YOUNG  CARPENTER,  THE         .        .        .        •  159 

YOUNG  LINNETS,  THE  ......  7C 


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